


Awakening

by That_Typo_Was_Intentional



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: "a lot of illegal icky shit", (mentioned) forced sleep deprivation, (mentioned) isolation, Aftermath of Torture, Electrocution, F/M, First story on here, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, I'm bad at everything in general, I'm trying, Psychological Torture, SO SORRY, Starvation, Torture, bullshit science AKA movie science, i honestly don't know if the ship is gonna happen, it says F/M for a reason but my lame ass was like okay let's nOT reveal the pairing yet so, it's the plan, jk i got no plan, like not too bad only b/c I can't, makes no sense, omg i'm dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Typo_Was_Intentional/pseuds/That_Typo_Was_Intentional
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To the bastards at KSI, Samantha could refuse to acknowledge her ties to the Autobots all she wanted. When finally confronted by the Autobots themselves after a decade, though, Sam realizes that despite being robots, they respected and trusted her more than any humans ever had. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she wasn't human herself...?</p><p>[12/10 - sorry it hasn't been updated in a while, I lost ma internet and I don't have a reliable connection. Hopefully I get things fixed up soon]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I deleted the note I had here a long time ago, but I guess I should add some again.
> 
> First, this is my first story on here, so if the formatting's weird, sorry. Second, uh...
> 
> I don't have a second....

A man waited anxiously in the elevator as he rode it to one of the highest rooms of the building. He quickly adjusted his glasses with an automatic sweep of his fingers before glancing at the paper he held in his hand.

**ACCESS GRANTED**

**The body of Samantha Strange is now under full authority of KSI.**

**KSI agrees to be held fully accountable for any-**

The ding of the elevator brought the man's reading to a stop. He looked back up as the elevator doors parted and he stepped through. Another man, also wearing a suit and glasses, was sitting at his desk, speaking to his assistant. Or at least trying to understand her as she ranted about something in Mandarin.

"How many times have I told you that I simply do _not_ understand what you're saying? Listen, I'm expecting-"

"Mr. Attinger, I know." His assistant didn't look all too pleased with how often her boss and that man met privately. Who _knew_ what kind of "business" was getting done?

"Joshua!" the man stepping out of the elevator called.

Joshua shooed his assistant away before giving the man his full attention.

"We've done it."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "You've got the Seed?"

Mr. Attinger tossed the paper he held onto Joshua's desk. "No, not yet. But we've got the girl." He nodded as Joshua scanned the paper. "After almost an entire decade, we've finally been granted full ownership of the body. They've already got it hooked up downstairs."

Joshua stood up and started walking around the desk. "Show me."

Attinger nodded once again as he followed Joshua into the elevator.

**. . .**

 

"Based on the information discovered throughout the decade," Mr. Attinger gruffly began, "which is, not surprisingly, a miserable amount, Samantha died after absorbing a large amount of raw energy from-"

"I know how she died. I did my homework." Joshua walked down the hall with a frown. "I want to figure out what she was and how she worked. You simply don't survive being crushed by Megatron."

"Well, the _Cube's_ energy eventually did her in." Harold recalled the countless medical records he had read about Samantha's death. "Over the course of a few weeks, both her body and memory deteriorated until she forgot everything and everyone she knew." He grunted. "And then died."

"Tragic," Joshua remarked nonchalantly.

After reaching the end of the hall, the men stormed into a gigantic room that served as a lab, pushing past numerous workers. "Where is she?" Joshua demanded.

A man with wild curly hair rushed up to him. "I'll lead you to her, sir."

The large man led them far across the room, past a little robot with crazy blue hair, past Megatron's head, until they reached a metal table with a corpse strapped onto it. A large machine was aimed at the head, and metal straps were wrapped around its neck, wrists, waist, and ankles beneath the cloth thrown over the body.

"To keep her from getting away," the man joked, but was met with silence. He stood there awkwardly.

Joshua stepped forward and rolled his eyes. "Wembley, I don't have to put up with your pathetic attempts at being humorous." He pointed at the lifeless body on the table. "If we manage to revive that thing, you wouldn't believe the trouble we could potentially be in."

Mr. Attinger gave Wembley a hard glare. " _Gill,_ this is serious business that requires a serious attitude."

The man nodded wordlessly and stepped aside. One of the researchers handed Joshua a remote. "Mr. Joyce, we wanted to let you…" His face twisted slightly. "...do the honors."

Joshua stared at the remote in his hand. It had a single red button on it, similar to the one he used to occasionally electrocute the little Autobot he held in captivity. He gave one last glance to the people around him.

"If I'm correct-" He paused and grinned. "-which I always am, a second dose of this energy should wake her right back up again. The residual energy did appear to heal her _after_ her death, after all."

He contained his excitement and, after counting to three in his head, he pressed down on the button. A beam of electric blue electricity shot out of the machine and into the body's head. It ran through it from head to toe, but the energy seemed to have no effect on the corpse.

Joshua cleared his throat after a minute of silence. "Perhaps she needs a _stronger_ dose." He pressed the button a couple more times, each time holding it down for five seconds, and waited. Everyone waited. There was no indication that the body, perfectly preserved for years, would be waking up anytime soon.

"What's going on?" Joshua incessantly pressed the button. "I thought this would work!"

Gill Wembley spoke up somewhat timidly. "Well, I have reason to believe it doesn't work because the energy is coming from all the Decepticon remains you've collected. This is the energy that killed her. Why would it revive her? Sure, her body healed after death," he rambled nervously, "but there was reason to believe that-"

"Are you insinuating that there is a flaw in my hypothesis... _Wembley_?"

Joshua turned to face him ever so slowly. "By my definition, _you_ are insinuating that _my_ idea was a complete failure. You _do_ remember that definition, don't you?"

Wembley lowered his eyes. "Yes, sir."

Joshua regarded the man indignantly. "You know what, Wembley? _You're really_ starting to get on my-"

" _Uri-! Uri-! Uri-!"_

Joshua whirled around to stare at the lifeless Samantha, where the voice was coming from despite her lack of movement. "What-?!" He looked around frantically. "What happened? What did I say? What'd I say?"

Wembley cleared his throat. "It's repeating 'Uri' over and over again.."

"So?!"

"Well, 'Uri' sounds a lot like what you said. 'You're really' without the 'ly' part."

"Voice activation," Joshua concluded quietly. He was gripping the remote tightly, though his finger was off the button. The voice coming from Samantha kept repeating "Uri" nonstop. He nervously glanced at Attinger, who gestured to the remote. Taking a deep breath, Joshua let his thumb press the button down one more time.

The blue electricity zapped the teenage girl and her eyes flew open. She immediately squeezed them shut in pain. She squirmed, but the machine kept feeding the blue energy into her system.

Color was returning to her body, a warm tan tinting her previously pale skin. Her dull hair began to shine brighter. The teen screamed, clearly in immense pain, but Joshua didn't let the button go.

"Mr. Joyce, you must release the button!" someone pleaded.

It was as if Samantha had suddenly discovered how to speak. "Stop! Or I'll-! I wil-! You hav-! Three sec-! 'fore I-!" The constant jolts of electricity continued to cut her off. Three seconds later, Joshua dropped the remote. He instantly bent down to retrieve it, but he didn't press the button.

"My God…" Attinger muttered. He peered at the revived alien suspiciously. Samantha, with heaving breaths, no longer spoke. At least, not in English.

" **I** _ **will**_ **make you regret that,"** she uttered threateningly. She gasped, recognizing her foreign language. **"I told you to stop! Now look at what you've done!"**

Joshua somewhat regained his composure. "What the hell is she saying?" he hissed at nobody in particular. "Though it _does_ sound quite lovely," he added randomly. He tended to be like that under pressure. Several people were either monitoring the recording of the room, or trying to identify the language Samantha spoke.

"The language cannot be identified, sir!" a voice replied.

He grew wary as Samantha buckled against her restraints. It appeared she couldn't escape, and her neck ground against the collar holding her in place as she turned to glare at Joshua. Her eyes looked different than the way they had before. They were no longer amber brown, and instead took on a redder hue, becoming cherry red.

"You think she's mad at me?" Joyce asked the ex-CIA agent. He received no response.

* * *

 

_Months later_

"So, Sam, why don't we try this again?" Harold Attinger eyed Samantha with a scowl.

His prisoner sat inside the back of a black SUV, which was parked by an unused harbor. She had been sitting there for less than ten minutes, but she was already shifting restlessly. "Tell me _what_ you are, _where_ you came from, and _why_ you're here. Or that 'buddy' of yours, dies."

Samantha looked at the screens she sat next to. An Autobot (what Harold had told her it was) was under fire. The Autobot had been driving away from the helicopters, trying to dodge the missiles being fired at him. One missile struck him, and he resorted to running on his own two legs.

She felt a twinge of remorse, and a load of pity, but she wouldn't let it show. "I already told you. I don't know who that is." She took a few deep breaths, her lungs struggling to hold much air. She thought back to how the Autobot had been brought out of hiding. A missile had been launched at the boat he was hiding on.

"You know, a bunch o' your guys were on that boat when that missile was fired," she mumbled quickly. "How'd you know it would hit the Autobot but not them? _Or_ the helicopter in the air!?"

Her hands reached up to scratch her cheek, but they came dangerously close to the metal collar she wore, used to electrocute her. And once her hand got close, Harold sent a jolt down her spine.

"Stop trying to change the subject." Harold frowned at her, clearly anything but pleased with her distracted thoughts. "We both know you and the Witwicky kid were both deeply involved in-"

"I don't know who _that_ is, either!" the teen gasped, out of breath. She glanced sideways in annoyance. "Look. You can't guilt trip me by threatening to kill people I don't know."

"You don't know him? Really?" The second phrase wasn't a question. "Because, according to Samuel, he and you were just _the_ best of friends," he spat, as if the word 'friends' had a foul taste. "Like brother and sister, how... _nice_." His eye twitched. "And in case you forgot, as you seem to do everything, that _thing_ _**isn't**_ a person."

Samantha defiantly turned her thin nose away, not wanting to look at Harold or the Autobot. Harold leaned far in and grabbed a fistful of Samantha's dulling hair. He yanked her forward, forcing a choked gasp to leave her, and shoved her graying face in front of the screen.

"Look at him." Samantha tried to pull away, but he only pushed her nearer to the screen with more force. "Look at him and tell me you don't know him." He was growling into her ear. She wrinkled her nose. The way her head was held, pulled backward, made it harder to breathe.

The Autobot had lost a leg at some point. He hopped around for a couple seconds before crashing down. _"Hold fire!"_ He rolled over, keeping an eye on his assailants. _"Can you not see? I've been injured."_

" _Box him in. Box him in."_

Holding a large metal hand to his chest, he groaned before identifying himself. _"Medical Officer Ratchet! I'm a friend!"_ he asserted, supporting himself on his left arm.

"It doesn't matter," Samantha whispered, feeling her face grow warm. Her eyes began to sting, and she suddenly had trouble swallowing. She knew what would eventually happen to Ratchet. Having Harold constantly brag about it to her, the brutality of the Cemetery Wind team was no mystery.

" _I'm an Autobot!"_

Samantha couldn't help cringing. _Those words._ Those three words seemed to always be one of the last utterances of any Autobot the Cemetery Wind team had killed so far. As far as she knew, there were very few left. She only knew of one confirmed survivor, and that was the Autobot leader.

She didn't want to watch, but she couldn't pull back. A salty taste invaded her mouth. Bile.

"I thought you didn't know him." Samantha couldn't even turn to glare at the man holding her. "You know, I was honestly beginning to believe the 'amnesia' bullshit from ten years ago, but I guess you've regained your memory."

Samantha closed her eyes. Ratchet wore a sort of pleading and innocent look on his metal face, and his large green hand was pressed to his chest. _"Optimus sent this distress message,"_ he rumbled out tiredly. A beep rang through the cold night air, and a deep voice followed.

" _ **Calling all Autobots. We are under targeted attack! Cease all contact with humans!"**_

Ratchet had bent over, but he lifted his head to glare at the men surrounding him. _"We are all hiding,"_ he uttered. _"All Autobots are being hunted. We are all in_ _ **danger**_ _."_

" _I lost a sister in Chicago,"_ someone retorted. _"You'll get no sympathy from me."_

"I thought the Decepticons destroyed the city _way_ before the Autobots got there," Samantha mused, though it put a strain on her throat, briefly putting her grieving on hold as she recalled the news clips she'd seen about "The Battle of Chicago". Harold let Samantha go with a scoff, though he did it by shoving her forcefully away from himself. She toppled over on her side, landing harshly on her elbow.

From seemingly out of nowhere, Harold conjured a large disc-like contraption. "Going in for the kill?" He didn't even look at the device while speaking into it.

" _As long as your pathetic excuse for soldiers do not interfere,"_ Lockdown's grating voice answered.

Harold was setting the contraption aside when Samantha gasped.

This scene had played out before her several times, but seeing other Autobots killed had never stirred any feelings within her. No feelings she couldn't hide, at least.

This time, however, she was completely unwilling to sit there and let Ratchet get killed. Not even knowing why, she leapt out of the SUV and knocked Harold aside. "No!" Her bony elbow sunk into Harold's ribs.

The remote Sam despised so much clattered to the ground as Harold lost his balance. "Shit!"

Samantha would later regret not snatching the damned thing. It wouldn't have stopped the electrocutions forever. A replacement would be built, and her torture would resume, worse than ever. As long as that collar remained coiled around her neck, the pain would never end.

But if she _had_ taken the remote, or at least kicked it away while running, then perhaps she would have been able to effectively save Ratchet from his eventual fate. **"RATCHET!"** she managed to cry out, already out of breath. She felt like she'd been forced to sprint a marathon; she was ready to puke.

The medic's blue optics turned in the general direction of her skeletal, starved body. She hadn't been fed ever since waking up, and though she definitely couldn't die from starvation, her body didn't have the right nutrients, or any for that matter, to maintain a healthy appearance. Still, there was recognition in his voice. "Sa-?"

Lockdown's missile struck his shoulder.

" _ **NOOO!"**_ Samantha's voice immediately grew hoarser from her sudden screeching.

"What's wrong with you humans?" Ratchet cried, glancing around in search of Samantha once more, having remembered the voice. "No! _Cease.._!"

Samantha's eyes couldn't appear any wider than they already were. Chunks of metal jumped off of Ratchet's body. "No!" she shrieked. "Sto-!"

That was when she regretted not grabbing that remote. She regretted it as the energy, blue despite its Decepticon origin, coursed through her. Her legs locked up, and her running came to a halt as she fell face first onto the asphalt. A single buzzing drone recorded her fall. Harold must have gotten hold of the remote again.

The currant red tinge in her eyes became a full blown scarlet, and with wild eyes, she raised her head and witnessed Ratchet's death. He might have been calling out her name. Maybe not. She wasn't sure. All she could hear was that constant ringing in her ears that came with her electrocutions.

Lockdown's hulking figure came into her line of sight. Half a minute went by, then Ratchet was dead. Lockdown had wrenched something blue out of Ratchet's chest, and Samantha watched the light seep out of Ratchet's blue optics.

"Ratchet..." Sam's voice had grown weak, and she attempted to drag herself forward.

She had deducted, from previous killings, that the blue thing must have been their heart or something. Their life force. She couldn't be killed in such a manner due to her true life force not even being inside her body.

That didn't shield her from feeling pain. Twitching after one final jolt, Samantha's eyes rolled back into her head as it dropped back down.

* * *

Shivers continuously ran up and down Samantha's spine. Her teeth chattered loudly and constantly. So much so that Attinger was getting impatient. As if he was ever patient with anyone, much less Samantha; the teen he had tortured whenever he had the chance throughout the past several months.

The electrocutions had become so frequent that her eyes always looked red. There were severe burns on her skin. Her chest always hurt, and she struggled to breathe. She had learned that her heart had begun to beat irregularly. She twitched constantly, and she always felt the sensation of pins and needles in at least _one part_ of her body.

The torture worked, though, in a way. As much as Samantha managed to veil her fear (though not her pain) while in Harold's presence, it was obvious that the now "eighteen" year old was terrified of the old man.

The instant she knew she would be handed off to the retired agent, she would desperately beg anyone but the man himself to keep him away from her.

Next, she'd be rendered silent upon visualizing the agony that awaited her. Then she'd remember how unbearable the stays with him were, and her panicky pleas would resume.

She used to kill people on her home planet all the time. Not natives, of course. Only invaders, and only when ordered to. It was easy. At least, once she had learned to remain indifferent while doing so.

But it was hard to be indifferent when _she_ was the one being hurt. What bothered her the most, though, was the fact that she couldn't _defend_ herself. It was utterly humiliating. _Dehumanizing_ , she'd think, if she _were_ one in the first place.

At that moment though, sitting beside her oppressor in a helicopter, Samantha could only dream of complaining. The pain inflicted upon her had weakened her state of body _and_ mind. Transforming was out of the question. Any chance she ever got was always snuffed out with the press of a button.

"Stop your chattering before I stop it for you," he snapped.

Samantha's eye twitched. "It isn't my f-fault I'm f-freezing," she stuttered, her voice barely a ragged whisper. Nervous, she rubbed her arms, bare despite her earlier complaints, having only been given a tank top and shorts to replace her usual medical gown. (A personal choice on Harold's part for sure.) Her shaky fingers gently brushed over the uncountable scars and burns that covered her body.

Their intricate designs snaked along her limbs, resembling lichtenberg figures, only _her_ scars weren't a product of lightning. "This body wasn't b-built to handle such c-c-cold temp-" She coughed raggedly.

"Temperatures."

She looked down at the bones she called arms.

Harold listened to her remark, about being "built", but she didn't elaborate. He raised the remote, and Samantha suppressed a flinch as her eyes caught the shine of the bright red button. "Why don't I just fry your insides. You'll be warm then."

Samantha shivered, due to both the cold and fear. "A sweater would be enough," she spat, though it didn't convey her anger very well. She reached up to touch her metal collar. "And this th-thing isn't helping, either." A zap. "Ow…"

She wished she could actually die. Not really to escape the pain, which she had grown slightly accustomed to, but because she was completely helpless and miserable.

That damned collar was choking her ridiculously thin neck as she rocked herself back and forth, the metal was freezing, she only had on a shirt and shorts, ice was clinging to her eyelashes, and she was positive she was going insane. And that wasn't even the worst of it.

She couldn't even remove the damned collar. It was held together with a powerful electromagnet, powered by a portable battery Harold lugged around on occasion. An extensive cable connected the battery to the collar, basically turning it into a freakishly long leash.

Samantha knew the old man didn't have to use the long cable. The battery could be transferred into every vehicle KSI owned by then, except the one's used for scanning. She knew Harold just used the "leash" to treat her like an animal, or some subhuman _thing_.

At that moment, the helicopter was struck by a gust of icy wind, and Harold was thrown to the side. He grunted as he "unintentionally" jerked Samantha along with him. She coughed as her cold metal collar was pulled even tighter against her skin. As if it wasn't difficult enough to breathe already.

The chopper steadied out, and a couple minutes, and jolts, later, the odd pair finally landed on the metal of a gigantic ship.

Lockdown's ship.

Samantha begrudgingly followed Harold out of the confines of the chopper.

It hadn't stopped the cold of the Arctic from biting Samantha's skin, but it kept most of the wind from knocking her over. They had been riding around for hours, but Sam was too cold to get bored. The girl sucked in cold air through clenched teeth. As usual, it hurt like hell.

"Why's his n-name even Lockdown?"

"Why do you _care_?" Harold spat back.

Samantha shrugged. "I mean, isn't that a k-k-kind of drill k-kids have to practice at sch-?" The sick yet sweet taste of blood tainted her tongue. She had bitten it rather than cry out as she received her unnecessary punishment. She never understood why she couldn't simply shut up.

At least the energy coursing through her drove the cold out momentarily. She just _knew_ an addition had been made to all the scars "decorating" her body.

"If I get even a _single_ cough from you in the next few minutes…" Harold growled, not even looking at Sam. "You do _not_ want to know what I have in store for you."

Sam unwillingly shut up. She found herself thinking back to the first day of her imprisonment, when the electrocution had robbed her of her ability to speak English. She had regained it by the second day. Shuddering, she looked back up, staring at Lockdown's ship.

Almost immediately, Lockdown's... _whatever they were_ , guards perhaps, stepped out of the ship. It obviously wasn't to greet them, however. Right behind them, Lockdown was walking out into the cold as well.

He hopped off a ledge and though he landed far from the spot in which Samantha, and the person she despised most on Earth, waited. His long strides got him close in no time.

"I warn you, Mr. Attinger of Earth…" The giant's gruff voice made Samantha remember the brutal murder of Ratchet at Lockdown's hands. "An alliance is a contract. And contracts-" He regarded Samantha with disgust for a second. "-like humans, _expire_." He eyed the "leash", then resettled his gaze on the ex-CIA agent. "I see you brought… _them_ ," Lockdown remarked darkly, refusing to properly acknowledge Samantha. "I wasn't aware you had reconsidered my _offer_."

Samantha, very conciously, did not freak out.

"I'm not here about that," Attinger snappped, removing his sunglasses, which to Samantha, seemed like an inappropriate accessory to wear in the icy hell they were in. She had previously questioned him about it, and had received pain in return.

"On this planet we have a saying." He had to tilt his head far back to squint up at Lockdown. " _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_."

"I also have a saying." Lockdown turned away from them, again looking disgusted. " _I don't care._ " Samantha couldn't let the thought of scoffing cross her mind. She was too busy trying to decipher the Transformer's behavior.

Why did he always seem revolted? Samantha was _also_ an alien and sure, humans _were_ different, and yes, she was revulsed by Harold, but she didn't approve of Lockdown's chauvinism. She'd put up with enough of that with her planet's previous rulers.

Harold nodded, accustomed to Lockdown's condescending behavior, unlike Samantha. "So what happened in Mexico City?" he asked, steering the conversation elsewhere. "Thought you had him."

"Three direct hits," Lockdown told him. "A mortal wound." Samantha's brows furrowed, and she squirmed, knowing they spoke of the Autobot leader; the one Harold claimed she once met. "Then _your_ men allowed him to escape."

Lockdown pointed a large finger straight at the comparatively small human.

"You promised me human intelligence." Lockdown sounded accusative. "Or _is there_ such a thing?" Samantha forced her blueing lips to not curl into a smirk.

Ignoring the insult, Harold looked away for a while before looking back up. "You know you've still never told me. Why do you want 'im? Who are you working for?"

Lockdown did not hesitate to reply. "Every galaxy I've traveled," he began, sounding unagitated for once, "all you _species_ are the same." The rancorous tone returned to his voice. "You all think _you're_ the center of the universe."

He looked off into the distance, and his next statement almost sounded pitiful, though in a condescending manner. "You have no idea…" Before storming off, he gave them one final glare. Samantha refused to meet his harsh gaze, and turned her scarred face to the ground.

As soon as Lockdown was out of sight, and they were seated in the helicopter, Sam spoke up. " _That's_ why we c-came here? Did I really ha-have to come all the w-way up here with you and freeze my ass off to d-do _that_?"

She spoke quickly, wanting to squeeze one last sentence in or two before getting zapped, or possibly slapped, as she sometimes was. "You c-couldn't do that over th-that phone thing o' yours? Why does he even _need_ your help? And w-what was the 'offer' he was talkin' about?"

With a grunt, Harold's finger came down on the red button, and through the haze of her pain, Sam heard him utter a few words that effectively shut her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, so, that was it. For the first chap, I mean. If it's confusing somewhere, lemme know and I'll see what I can do. The same applies for typos and wonky sentences that I TOTALLY DID NOT MAKE BY ACCIDENT.
> 
> heehee :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apology is at the bottom, so go there if you want to see me beg for forgiveness. The reason I've got this at the top is to just tell you that I'm going to try something out in this chapter.
> 
> If you mind Samantha having 'thoughts' uh, let me know. I've never really used 'thoughts' in my stories. And in case I haven't gotten the message across, 'THESE' are Sam's thoughts...hehe.

A hiss slipped past Samantha's lips as she opened her eyes, only to shut them again. _'Ugh...Too bright…'_ She reached up to rub her eyes and sighed. _'Wait. What?'_ She squinted open her right eye and looked down at her hands.

For possibly the first time in two months, she had woken up...unrestrained. Well, she was still held down on that metal table by her waist, but other than that and her collar...Nothing.

Her eyes were still ultra sensitive to light, but she mustered the strength to look up and around. Surprisingly, a woman in a black suit was standing near the table. She didn't don the usual white uniforms required of most people that worked in KSI's dissection rooms, and that was when Sam realized they _weren't_ in her usual dissection room. It was no wonder she wasn't freezing to death.

Samantha shielded her eyes with her thin hands and let an almost imperceptible smile grace her face. She'd recognize that ponytail anywhere. "What's goin' on, Su," she croaked groggily.

Su's ponytail whipped to the side as she turned around. She opened her mouth to "greet" Samantha, but Sam only shook her head. Su opted to simply answer the question. "I'm not sure. I only heard that Joshua is going to send you with Mr. A-"

"NO!" Samantha's eyes bulged. She was glad her hands were hiding her oncoming tears. "Su, you can't let me go with him, you can't! Look what he did to me the other day!" She froze. "What if he ends up taking me back t-"

"Calm down!" Su hissed. She would have placed her hand over Samantha's mouth, but the woman was aware that Sam already struggled to breathe. "You won't see Mr. Attinger. You will be sent on a mission with his team-"

A gloved hand tapped Su's shoulder. "Ms. Yueming?" It was a worker who spoke. Su hid her annoyance at his mispronunciation of her name. "I'm, uh, going to have to ask you to step away momentarily. You can't be near the table during wake-ups."

That was one of the terms used in KSI to refer to Samantha's electrocutions. Some used "wake-ups" due to the fact that it was how Sam had initially been revived. (Joshua had been extremely peeved at having missed the opportunity to go all "Victor Frankenstein" upon Sam's revival)

" _A missed opportunity,"_ he had said. _"I wish I could do that one over."_

Su stepped back with a pitiful expression as the worker pulled a lever. Sam clamped her hands over her mouth.

Su's high heels clicked as she paced back and forth until she was allowed to return to Sam's side. Samantha's scarred hands trembled as she pulled them away from her mouth. "S-so where 'm I goin'…?" she mumbled, lips numb.

Before Su could answer, Joshua walked up behind Su with several men a few yards behind him. "Let's just say you're going on a _test run_." He had a hard time looking into Sam's reddish eyes. Her whole face was scarred and burnt. Not to mention she looked like a skeleton.

"As you know," Joshua began, "I made a _deal_ with-"

"That asshole," Samantha rasped.

Joshua shrugged. "Whatever you want…" He cleared his throat. "I had two options once KSI gained ownership of you, you know, to keep the deal... _stable_. Either pay him upfront…" He paused. "Or let him _borrow_ you."

Samantha rolled her sunken eyes, not mentioning the fact that Harold had already had a deal placed on the table by Lockdown. It had to do with the Seed, so telling Joshua about it would only encourage the man to take Lockdown's proposition.

She looked away and looked at her twitching, bone thin fingers in disgust. "Wasting time with that asshole would probably be less unbearable if you fed me once in awhile…"

Joshua shook his head. "I won't give you anything until _you_ give _me_ something."

"And what the hell would that be?!" Samantha didn't know why she was asking. She knew the answer would be-

"Information." Joshua waited, but Samantha said nothing. He shrugged and beckoned to the men behind him. "Well, if you won't say anything…"

"Why?!" Samantha exploded, voice cracking. Her head rolled to glare at Joshua. "Why do you want to know what I am so badly?"

Joshua held his hand up, and the group of workers stepped back. "You know why." He looked up, trying to recall something he had read a long while back. "People saw you do something extraordinary ten years ago."

Sam stared up boredly at the ceiling. "What, did I kill someone?"

Joshua's expression remained neutral. "You saved an Autobot."

"As _if_."

Joshua came closer and fixed Samantha in his stern gaze. "People saw you _go_ into an _alley_ and come out as something _else_. Now if I could recreate-, _build_ something like what you are…"

Sam clenched her fists in frustration. Why was it that those memories always evaded her? She remembered her life as it had been about fifteen years ago, but any memories about anything more recent than that had been wiped out.

The only chance she had of _ever_ escaping KSI would come once she remembered something, but it seemed her brain was determined to screw Samantha over. She could simply reveal herself, except she was sworn not to. Moreover, she didn't know how much the humans knew about her, so she couldn't just go and reveal all of her powers in hopes of getting the right one. They'd likely think she was bullshitting them.

She also couldn't just give them that knowledge. This company was already building Transformer prototypes. If they managed to build… well, another _her_ , the planet was doomed. WMD's were already too big an issue.

Joshua glanced at his assistant, who gave him a stern glare in return. "Fine," he relented, accepting Sam's silence for the moment. "But I still have to send you out."

Sam blinked. "Out?"

"Yes, out."

"Why?"

Joshua dragged out a long and exasperated sigh. With it went most of his patience. All of Samantha's questioning was really getting to him. "Let's just say Harold has plans for you."

Sam squinted at him, hoping to veil her anxiety with suspicion. "Wha' kinda plans?"

With a wave of his hand, Joshua dismissed his assistant before placing his hands in his pockets. "If Harold told you to do something, in terms of… _fighting_... would you do it?"

More squinting on Samantha's end. "I'd have no reason to."

Joshua's hand reached up to briefly rub the bridge of his nose. "A, so he won't electrocute your ass to the point of making you faint." He received a glare. "And B, what if it involved gaining your freedom?"

A raspy scoff. "If I could trust you to actually follow through, I'd be willing to listen."

Joshua's head bobbed up and down like a buoy in a calm tide. "Good."

* * *

"I'm with Cemetery Wind, we are on the move. Repeat, on the move."

James Savoy tugged Samantha along, pulling at the wire connecting her collar to a battery. He gave it a sudden jerk, making her gag.

"W-what if I don't _wanna_ be on the move?" Sam challenged. This was her first time being placed under James Savoy's authority. Wondering if he would abuse her as much as Harold did, she was prepared to be less than compliant in order to find out.

She blew a raspberry in an attempt to get her hair out of her mouth. The turning blades of the helicopters were making her hair resemble a palm tree.

 _'I bet I_ _look like a real life Medusa. Too bad I can't turn whoever I look at into stone.'_

James yanked open the door and stepped aside to let her crawl in. Samantha would rather get in on her own than wait to get shoved inside.

She sat on the stiff, cold seat, ignoring her seat belt as well as the man seated beside her. James made a few adjustments to the wire before taking up a spot in the front passenger seat.

Samantha's black hoodie made her near invisible in the dark interior of the vehicle. She was almost completely covered from head to toe. Black gloves, black hood, black everything. Except for her face. She caught James watching her in the rear view mirror.

"The hell happened to _you_?" he muttered.

She averted her eyes. "That _asshole_ is what happened to me." She scratched her cheek. Or, more like her cheek _bones_. The young woman jumped slightly as a pair of black sunglasses landed on her lap.

"Make sure you keep those on. Don't want the _Yeagers_ seeing a face like yours. We'll spare them the nightmares." He chuckled.

Samantha shakily put them on with a frown. "Is that why _you're_ wearin' some?" James showed her the remote in his hand before using it. The black sunglasses concealed Samantha's squinted eyes as the pain in her chest spread throughout her body.

"Don't forget who's in charge here."

* * *

Samantha kept her head ducked for most of the ride, but peered out the tinted windows once in awhile. Her punishments came once every couple minutes, as mandated, and she knew she couldn't try to escape. The damn doors had that "safety lock" so that she couldn't open it from the inside, and she couldn't even consider breaking the windows. Not with her sticks-for-arms.

The sun rose in the sky as the ride dragged on. Besides her scheduled "zappings", it was slightly less unpleasant than her usual day in KSI headquarters, albeit a lot more boring. _Especially_ to Samantha, who would fidget constantly and let her mind wander randomly in order to alleviate her boredom.

As easily bored as she could be, drifting through the fields and watching clouds of dust trail behind them granted her a refreshing feeling she hadn't felt in months. _Years_ if what Joshua said about her was true. If she had been able to open her window, even an inch, she would have.

Samantha was in the middle of flicking her small flashlight on and off when she caught sight of a large billboard jutting out of the cornfield next to the road. Her left eyebrow arched in confusion, and her easily derailed thoughts took yet _another_ drastic turn.

' _Why in the world is there a billboard out here? Who thought it would be a good idea to put a billboard in the middle of nowhere?'_

She didn't bother to read what it said.

It eventually dawned on her that, unfortunately, they weren't on their way to a barn, or farm _,_ to simply _talk_ to the "Yeagers", as James had said. Not that she pitied the humans. She simply didn't want to witness the death of _another_ Autobot, if he was there.

No, they weren't going to simply _talk_. They were on a _hunt_. Like they had been with Ratchet. Samantha still hadn't found a good reason behind her _attachment_ to the deceased Autobot. Even if she _had_ known him once, she didn't remember anything at all about him anymore. And as cliche as it sounded, she didn't like being attached to anything, or anyone.

As a robot herself, she had seen many generations of loved ones come and go throughout her life of several thousand years. She had learned the hard way, the painful way, that it was best to simply not form any type of relation with any "organic" life form.

A sudden bump put a stop to her thinking, and she realized that they had reached their destination. It was a nice place, with an insanely long dirt road. She had heard that the house had recently been foreclosed, however.

She (very) briefly wondered about the life the Yeagers led. In a second, her mind had moved to a different topic; the mission. All she knew was that someone had called that "Remember Chicago" number, and reported a _concern_ about a certain truck…

"We're on property," James reported. Samantha was aware that Harold was listening on the other end through Savoy's earpiece.

Her sensitive hearing caught a high pitched call from outside. Most likely from the daughter; _Tessa_ Yeager. _"Dad!"_

Samantha shook her head. _'Way to make yourself more vulnerable.'_

The SUV Sam and James were in led all the others. Sam noticed a man with dark hair; whether brown or black she couldn't tell through the dark windows. That had to be Cade. She also spotted his daughter, not much younger looking than Sam herself. Definitely blonde. It looked unnatural.

The man walked up and stood his ground as the vehicle Sam was in jerked to a stop. At that angle, Samantha spotted yet another man, with sandy blonde curls framing his slightly reddening face. He didn't seem to be trying to hide the red splotch on his forehead.

James gave them all a signal, gave Samantha a stern glare, and stepped out. Samantha stayed put, flexing her fingers anxiously. A few moments later, a cool breeze rushed over her, and the smell of… _not car_ invaded the air around her.

She looked up slowly to find James waiting for her with the door wide open. Her sunglasses concealed her wide eyes. She _definitely_ hadn't expected to be let out on this mission. The pain in her chest grew along with her excitement.

She tentatively placed a foot on the ground, and then the second. She relished the feeling of her shoes sinking half an inch into the lush green grass. She wished she was barefoot. "Whoa…"

The last time she had been outside was a couple of days ago, when she "visited" Lockdown with "that asshole" (as she had recently dubbed Harold). Before that, however, she had spent virtually every day of every week of every month strapped to a metal table.

The vast Arctic couldn't hope compare to the warm, sunny, open field she was standing in at that moment.

James made it very clear to her, wordlessly, that she was still under his control. He handed the "battery/leash thing" over to one of his men before walking over to Cade. A helicopter droned noisily overhead, sending a rustle across the grass as it sped across the clear sky.

"Mr. Yeager, my name's James Savoy. I'm a federal agent. My men and I are trying to track down a-" He paused. "-abandoned truck."

He smiled a smile Sam couldn't see, but she grimaced at his honeyed tone.

"S'a nice spread you got here," James commented, looking around. "Too bad she's for sale."

"Well thanks," Cade replied, barely shaking his head. "She's not."

Samantha stared ahead blankly in confusion at his response, but didn't make a sound.

Cade stepped closer to James, slipping on his jacket. He pointed to an old Chevy C-10 slumped in front of his house. Well, technically it wasn't even _his_ anymore. "That the truck you mean?"

James shook his head. " 'Fraid not." A pause. "You know, Mr. Yeager, we received a call from someone _concerned_ about this truck."

Samantha heard a quiet "oh no" from the man hiding behind the tree. Obviously, no one else heard it.

' _And here we go with the scare tactics. Sounds like the presidential candidates from the debates a few years ago.'_

Sam noticed the man holding her battery look down at his watch, and she braced herself for the upcoming pain. She caught Cade's daughter staring at her. Sam bristled.

"That wasn't you?" James wasn't even facing Cade anymore. Sam rolled her eyes. Everyone knew damn well that call wasn't from Cade. If it had been, then he'd definitely had a change of heart.

"Only thing I'm concerned about is you bein' on my property without permission," Cade uttered, his voice dropping.

James replied with something between a scoff and a laugh.

"You know we have a rule about people messin' with people from Texas." Cade took slow steps toward James. "And I don't know what truck you're talkin' about."

James whirled and got up in Cade's face. "The kind that cost American lives."

The statement reminded Sam of what James had told Ratchet before getting him killed. _"I lost a sister in Chicago. You'll get no sympathy from me."_ She hadn't known James was who had said it at the time.

James turned to his team. "Search the property!" he ordered.

"What do you mean, 'search the property'? You don't have a warrant!"

James once again turned to Cade and pointed at his own face. "My _face_ , is my warrant."

Samantha's yelp caught in her throat as she was tugged toward the barn. Her eyes darted around to spot the man that had hidden behind the tree walking backwards defensively. "Wait, but if you guys _do_ find a truck we get a reward, right?" he asked loudly with his hands up.

Samantha wished she could tell him how wrong he was. For a second, at least. Then her guilt wore off. It was clear to her that _he_ had been the one who called. She supposed it was _his_ job to deal with it.

Samantha was led closer to the barn and further away from the house, but her ears still picked up the whine from the drones as they were released into the air.

"Open, open, open," someone called as they barged into the barn.

"Short wall, short wall."

"Five in, five in."

Samantha's eyes wandered as she took in her surroundings. Her eyes snapped back down when she heard a robotic sounding voice speak up.

" _Intruder alert! Back away from the premises!_ "

Samantha gaped at the metal guard dog as it rolled away from them, its metal jaws moving up and down as it tried to bark. She grinned down at it, trying not to laugh while trying to figure out what it was.

"What the hell is that?" someone asked, voicing Sam's thoughts.

"Just some dumb inventor," somebody replied.

Samantha bit back a smile and shook her head. "Just some dumb inventor," she mimicked quietly to herself.

An almost inaudible creak reached her ears, and she blinked. No one else seemed to have heard it.

Men in black had infested the barn, looking for any sign of the truck.

"Clear."

"Clear."

"Clear right."

"Clear."

Some of the men were standing on a large wooden platform in the middle of the barn. One of them was shining a flashlight through the cracks in the wooden beams.

"Let's go," the man holding Sam ordered, throwing in the towel. "There's nothin' here."

Samantha wished she could stay and inspect further. Something was underneath that wooden platform. She was sure of it.

She was glad that the man holding her super long leash was one of the few men who didn't fully exit the barn. Samantha didn't move, and let the long cable unravel as the man moved further and further away from her.

The man stopped on the other end of the wooden platform and glanced back at her. She pretended to be looking around at everything, trying to seem busy. Perhaps if the man thought she was simply taking it all in, he'd leave her be for a couple minutes.

And he did.

She saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye, and look away. She cheered internally and looked down at the cable. There were still a few yards left. For a millisecond, she was _grateful_ her leash was so long. As silently as she could, she crawled onto the wooden stage on all fours.

Pushing a few things aside slowly, she bent down and peered through one of the cracks in the wood. It was dark in there, that was for sure, but she _did have_ her small flashlight, and she intended to use it. She shone it through another hole in the planks.

There _was_ something there. It barely moved once every so often, but it moved alright. It was a steady, repeated motion.

Breathing.

Her strained breaths caught its attention, and when two pale blue lights faced her, she froze.

' _Holy shit. An Autobot's hiding here. How hasn't he been found? These idiots easily found Ratchet using his heat signature, in a huge_ _ **boat**_ _, but they haven't spotted this one? Through some flimsy planks of_ _ **wood**_ _?!'_

The Autobot stared back up at her, but Samantha quietly crept backward and climbed off the platform. She was so captivated by what she had just seen, that she almost hadn't heard what had been going on outside. The man gripping her leash was unknowingly stepping closer to the barn door, giving Samantha the chance to peek outside.

"...a live, armed missile in the trash."

"Live? I carried that to the trash! You told me that was a dud, dude!" The man with the head injury looked around somewhat sheepishly. "I could be dead. Right?"

"Look. Okay, yes, I found a truck, alright?" Cade admitted, looking at James nervously. "I towed it back for the parts. I left it here last night. This morning it's gone! When? Where? I don't know. I swear to God, that's as much as I know about 'im!"

Samantha felt her skin crawl (though it always did that) as she barely made out Harold's voice through James' earpiece.

" _He said, 'him'. He_ _ **knows**_ _who the son of a bitch is!"_

James raised his hand to his earpiece and turned around. "Mr. Yeager."

"What?" Cade sounded exasperated.

"Excuse me." James removed his reflective sunglasses. "You just said 'him'."

Cade didn't respond.

"Take 'em down!"

"What?"

The following events all happened in a flash to Samantha. One second everyone was standing around, and the next everyone was being grabbed and thrown to the ground. With all the commotion, Samantha couldn't make out much of what was being said, or who was saying what.

"Ow! Let me go!" Samantha's eyes flicked to the house to see Tessa being grabbed by the man who had sat next to her on their way over.

Cade pointed at himself. "They don't know about the truck! _I_ know!" He turned back to look at his daughter. "Just let her go!"

Samantha was tugged forward as the Yeager's home became a flashpoint.

She was being led closer and closer to James, and she wasn't sure why. Heck, she hadn't been sure about _anything_ ever since she had been woken up.

Tessa clawed at her assailant. "Get off!"

Cade was also grabbed, but he still attempted to fight back. "Let her go! They don't know about the truck!"

Sam had almost reached James. He called looked around and called out to his men. "A' right! Load up! Search the perimeter!"

"Lucas, you called, didn't you?" Tessa screeched, red faced.

Lucas was busy kneeling down with his hands up in the air. "No! I don't know _any_ of these scary guys!"

Tessa flailed her arms, but the arms of the man holding her remained latched around her waist. "My God, you're manhandling a woman! I'll kick your _ass!_ " she growled. Samantha's eyebrow quirked with humor at _that_.

Cade momentarily wrenched free and ran toward Tessa. "Let her go!" The words had barely left his mouth when he was tackled again. More people piled up on him this time. Like football, but _fucking insane_.

Tears rolled down Tessa's face, and her voice had become hoarse. "Daddy!"

Cade's arms were secured behind his back and his face was shoved into the ground. "You're not going anywhere!" an agent threatened.

Samantha scoffed. _'How much lamer can these guys get?'_ She had learned to tolerate her constant struggle for air, and the sensitivity of her wounds, but the non-threatening air about the Cemetery Wind Team she couldn't tolerate.

Distracted, she hadn't noticed James standing before her. Intensity burned in his stormy eyes as he narrowed them at her. His question was firm, and sounded more like a statement. "Would it bother you to witness at least one of these people's deaths."

The question surprised her, but her answer was terse and instinctual. "No." Samantha's eye twitched as Tessa's cries for Cade reached her ears.

James glare deepened. "Positive?"

The sun caught Samantha's reddish eyes as she turned her gaze to the man with the head injury. "You're not taking me anywhere!" He grunted as he struggled against the men holding him. "I'm an American!" In an instant his face was buried in dirt.

That only seemed to increase Samantha's indifference toward Cemetery Wind's current targets. "Yep." She hid her amusement at the sound of popping the 'p'. Her amusement vanished as she heard Harold's gruff voice coming through James' earpiece.

" _Savoy. Use the girl."_

James turned away for a moment. "Which one?"

" _Both."_

Sam blinked.

James didn't face her yet. "You sure about this?"

" _She won't talk, and it isn't likely we'll be able to force her hand. If Joshua can't build his own super soldiers, we can at least make her our own."_

Samantha's gut pleaded her to back away, but her mind warned her not to. _'If you back off they're just going to lock you up all over again. If they think they've still got a hold of ya, they won't be as careful.'_

James pulled a gun from inside his jacket, leaving Sam to briefly wonder why he hadn't kept in his holster. All traces of curiosity left her face when he held it out.

To _her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. That's it. Sorry for taking almost a month for 4k flipping words, but I had "writer's block" (as in, I'm a lazy piece of crap).
> 
> Aside from that, there isn't much I have to say. I don't know where to go from here, really, so I'd appreciate some helpful suggestions. But yeah, I hope I don't take so long with the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I don't feel as horrible as I thought I would. I guess since I cross-posted this a moment ago, I'm over my paranoia.
> 
> Hope this isn't TOO much of a disappointment, heh.
> 
> Also, quick formatting thingy: the few paragraphs between *5* periods just signal a “partial” POV change. Not really, just, the story is told mainly from Sam’s perspective, so for a few paragraphs I kind of switch it to Tessa’s view, but not really. Just to get into her head without complete POV change. (I wanted a more subtle way but it didn’t show up and I’m not gonna waste more time lookin’ for a way) REMINDER it’s just ONE section. Multiple paragraphs, one section. I just wanna be not-vague.
> 
> FINALLY, sorry if it's formatted weird, it's CLEARLY been a while since I posted so I forgot what it's supposed ta look like? Not that I ever figured it out in the first place...

Samantha held the gun in her shaky hand as steadily as she could, aiming it at the blond teen in her grasp. Tessa had stopped struggling, and merely let Sam hold her captive in defeat.

As Samantha had suspected, Savoy had ordered her to use Tessa to scare Cade into revealing the whereabouts of the truck. (Or _instructed_ , as Sam preferred. She wasn't fond of the idea of taking orders from the wrong leader)

It wasn't that Sam _wanted_ to do it. She never fancied hurting other beings, especially innocent ones like Tessa. However, she had been given something resembling a promise of freedom in exchange for this one simple task as far as she knew.

Then again, a change had been taking place within her that she was not aware of. Decepticon energy had been pooled into her, which was gradually rendering her morals useless. She tended to be more rude and aggressive after especially large dosages of the "evil" energy, but the effect usually faded with time.

And, yes, Harold appeared to want to make Sam his very own super soldier, once they somehow gained control of her, which they already kind of did. Torture was a good way of breaking the human psyche, and with Samantha, it was having a similar effect. Yet, Samantha figured that when she saw her first chance of escape, she'd take it. _Then_ they'd see what she could do.

For the moment, though, she continued to be closely monitored. Sam doubted, or actually hoped that she wouldn't, have to actually kill Tessa. Toss her around a bit, perhaps, but not mortally _wound_ her.

At the time, Sam's thin arm was wrapped around Tessa's neck. Sam didn't have the strength to back up her skills, so she resorted to simply cutting off a portion of Tessa's air to debilitate her. She didn't enjoy it, knowing well the pain of struggling for your every breath. Tessa was clutching her concealed arm with tears in her eyes. "You're not actually gonna kill me, are you?" she panted.

Samantha stayed as still as her chronic twitching would allow her.

"Are you?" Tessa choked again, quieter.

Samantha strengthened her grip on her weapon, which she believed to be fake. It was much too light. But she wasn't risking some sort of misfire. Even more so if James decided to electrocute her out of nowhere. (He had been handed the leash, after all, and up to then he seemed as trigger happy as his boss)

"Doubt I'll have to," she whispered back, minding to hide her lips' movement. She didn't need anyone getting suspicious.

Tessa's sniffling lessened, somewhat. She didn't seem to want to provoke Sam, but after hearing James shoot into the ground near Cade's head, she had to speak. "But if you _did_ have to…?"

Samantha bristled. "Dunno," was her nearly-silent answer.

"You _don't know_?"

Samantha could almost feel herself cooking in her dark clothing. ' _Damn this crap...Why couldn't these guys live somewhere cooler? Near the coast or something?'_ The sun was making her see spots, and she couldn't even bear to squint at it, even through her sunglasses.

She found herself _missing_ the West Coast all of a sudden, but the feeling did not last. _How_ could she miss a place she'd never been to, after all?

But the memory of a cool California breeze lingered.

"Listen," she hissed into Tessa's ear, hoping she wouldn't catch the inevitable waver in Sam's voice. "I know the 'truck' is under that barn. If James loses his patience, I'll let 'im know. He probably won't want to kill ya so much then, _got it_?"

Tessa tried to nod frantically, but Sam's chokehold restrained her from doing so.

Having not paid attention to whatever had been going on in the past minute, Samantha's knees locked up at hearing Savoy's last remark.

"Shoot 'er."

A sob escaped Tessa's throat and shook her head as much as she could, which was, admittedly, not much. "Please don't shoot me! Please!"

Samantha's strained breaths quickened as panic settled in, and not necessarily because she didn't want to pull the trigger. She panicked at the realization that she, in fact, _truly didn't_ want to pull the trigger. ' _Does that even make sense?'_

She was panicking at the thought that she actually _pitied_ Tessa, not at the fact that she was being ordered to shoot the girl.

"Please!" Tessa's pleas seemed to ring even louder in Samantha's ears.

Samantha now had to focus entirely on her hand to keep it from trembling. "I don't wanna shoot you anymore than you wanna die," Sam whispered, pinning Tessa to the ground. ' _But I'd also like to spare myself an electrocution.'_

"Then don't," Tessa whimpered, her nose starting to run.

Time slowed as Samantha weighed her options. Shoot Tessa and hopefully have a chance to escape? Or spare Tessa and completely eliminate _any and all_ chances she'd ever have to flee?

James opened his mouth to yell at her again, but she beat him to it. "Wait!"

Surprisingly, everyone quieted.

Sam's eyes darted, not wanting to be the focus of everyone's attention. She cleared her throat, determined not to let it waver. "...I know where... _it_ is," she announced hesitantly. Not because she was frightened, but just because she didn't know how to refer to a fellow alien.

Especially an alien everyone insisted she'd known.

The people in her field of vision looked just about ready to laugh, but Savoy spoke up roughly, dampening their mood. "Do you, now…" He stepped away from Cade, who was evidently relieved by the current distraction.

Savoy reached Sam and held her in an intense stare.

Knowing she was expected to speak, Sam did so. "...I saw...something, a big... _thing_ in the barn." Sam _knew_ that James planned on contradicting her with what he thought was the obvious truth, so she shook her head, ignoring the extra strain the movement put on her throat. " _Under_."

James was so eager to prove her wrong, he blurted out his question without thinking. "Under _where_?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Sam heard a few "snrk"s off to the side. She was struggling from letting one escape her own mouth, but she couldn't help but crack the hint of a smile.

Savoy glared, but showed no other sign of anger.

But Sam certainly _felt_ one. Gritting her teeth, she heard Tessa gasp, and immediately let the teen go. The shock lasted a second, so she grabbed Tessa immediately after it was over.

" _Where_ is he? Where is he, then?" Savoy growled out, loud enough for his underlings to flinch. Sam, in her effort to stay stock still, forgot to respond. (Her mind didn't _completely wander off_ or anything.) "Where is he, hm? _Where is he!?_ "

" **HERE I AM!"**

Planks of wood and scraps of metal flew through the air, some of them already ablaze somehow. Nearly everyone on property immediately scattered, seeking a suitable spot from which to fire at their target. Except, of course, the person holding the battery powering her collar. He (the person to whom James had handed the leash to) pulled Sam toward the car. She was practically forced to let her captive go, which she probably would have done anyway.

Cade managed to pluck a drone from the air in the midst of all the commotion. Rolling over and getting up, her helped his daughter hide behind a tree to briefly shield themselves from the explosions.

Samantha coughed and sputtered and she was forcefully dragged back to the vehicle in which she came. "Watch-!" Against her will, she clawed at her collar, and as she expected, she automatically got shocked. The more she was shocked, the more she clawed, and the more she clawed, the more she was shocked. It was a ruthless cycle.

The man hastily crawled into the SUV and tried to drag her along with him, but the energy was taking its toll. Samantha's legs gave out, and she collapsed beside the back tire.

As her vision began to fade out, she vaguely noticed Cade, Tessa, and the man she'd called "Lucas", run past "their" house and toward the field. Tessa gazed back and noticed Samantha slumped on the ground, twitching. She broke away from her father, though he chased and called after her, and she made a mad dash in Sam's direction.

The Autobot might have said something, but Sam was too out of it to know for sure.

Tessa's green eyes looked over a fainting Sam once she was near and reached out. "Hey! Get up!" she cried breathlessly. "You…! Have to move or," she panted, "you're gonna get killed!"

Samantha gazed up at Tessa through her sunglasses with heavy eyelids. She fruitlessly tried to wiggle away. She didn't want Tessa to get shocked again. "Can't…" She wheezed as she tried to restore oxygen to her fried lungs.

Cade finally caught up to his daughter and tried to pry her away. "Tess, c'mon!" Though he was panting, he didn't sound nearly as bad as Sam. "What are you _doing_!?"

Were she conscious enough, Sam might have been envious of the panicked urgency in his voice.

"Wait! Dad, can't you see?" his daughter cried. "Look, they're _killing_ her!" Cade put his preoccupations aside for a few seconds as he hurriedly analyzed the wire. He looked up at the man inside the SUV, who was starting to climb out, and instinctively slammed the door shut with every ounce of strength in his body.

While Cade only did it to protect himself and his daughter, it turned out to benefit Samantha as well. The energy stopped feeding into her, cut off, but her collar stayed on.

Samantha choked on her own heaving breaths and blinked repeatedly. (It wasn't so much blinking as it was twitching.) She almost drunkenly stood up and tugged at the cable, trying to get it to tear completely. Weakened, she couldn't do much, but Tessa gave it a harsh jerk as well, and the wire eventually snapped.

Sam's vision was going black as she fell from the force. The damned collar was constricting, and had she been able to get air down her windpipe, her lungs were too mutilated to work.

But, as the wire was cut off, so was the battery power. The electricity responsible for torturing her _and_ keeping the two halves of her collar together was no longer flowing.

Of course, it didn't magically fall off as Sam had hoped. Still, she realized that without having the collar actively pulled against her, it wasn't as tight as it'd seemed. It _had_ fit her neck from months ago, the "healthy" one. And though it _had_ been fitted as she had continued to be starved, there was only so much adjustment that could be made…

Sam, never being one to look on the bright side, faintly recalled that she was still on the verge of fainting. Soft, yellow-green grass and earth cushioned her fall, and as she lay there shuddering and spasming, she wished she could just lay there and sleep forever.

She felt herself being lifted.

Why couldn't her wishes ever come true?

The monotonous ring in her ears receded, and a muffled voice made its way through the fog in her brain. Her bleary vision let her know only that she was slowly being dragged toward a field of tall grass. A hand gripped her under her shoulder, and an arm curled around the little flesh of her waist. Not finding a proper grip, the arm lowered to her hips.

' _At least the grooves and shit of my hip bones should give them a better grip,'_ Sam internally joked, if only to keep her from despairing. Her habit of taking things lightly had become one of her very few comforts during her imprisonment.

With the added support, she found they were making faster headway toward the field. Not wanting to be a ragdoll, she willed her dragging legs to support her meager weight. She felt sure that she was being carried only because she weighed so little.

With all the cloth covering her body, Samantha could only listen to the grass brush the entirety of her legs as they cut through it. Little by little, her vision cleared a tad more, and the reflective surface of what she guessed was a pond entered her sight.

Behind them, she heard nearly muted explosions. The ringing was still so bad that the destruction of the Yeager's home was no more intrusive than the panting of the people carrying her.

She briefly wondered what it'd be like to lose all her possessions in such a way, then remembered she had no possessions other than her own body. ' _But it comes with a bunch o' cool accessories!'_

Yes, she sucked at sympathy.

The now dusty ground rumbled below them, and as they reached the peak of a small hill, a small white car flew - literally flew - into their sights. Sam wished she had the breath to laugh as one of the front tires struck a member of the Cemetery Wind team square in the jaw.

They stopped advancing, and the white car drifted toward them, finally coming to a stop before them. Samantha noticed the person inside, and wondered how in the world he had managed to drop by in the nick of time.

' _Always thinking of the important things, I see,'_ Samantha scolded herself. She decided to read the lettering on the side of the car: SHANE A+

Or something like that. Her vision wasn't the best at the moment.

The man-or was it boy-leaned over to throw open the door for them. "C'mon! Hurry up! Get in the car! Let's go!"

His unexpected screaming brought Sam out of her daze a little. She reminded herself to not acknowledge his unintended assistance, ever.

Sound seemed to change to her, then. It was still muffled, but was more prominent. Instead of feeling like she had her fingers in her ears, it felt like a never-ending yawn. In slow motion…

She assumed her microphones must have gotten damaged. ' _Wait. I'm in human disg-oh wait, right, right.'_ She'd forgotten she wasn't completely organic in any disguise.

Tessa's warped voice rang out. "Daddy, get in the car!"

Too panicked to question his daughter, Cade hastily got in the passenger seat after making sure Tessa was safely situated. She took care of adjusting her position so that Sam was safely against her. The tallest one of the group plopped down in the remaining space, which was plenty given both Sam's and Tessa's smaller frames.

Sam's head lolled and came to rest on Tessa's shoulder. Samantha noticed the surprised look Cade gave the driver, but he said nothing for the moment. Sam thought it wisest for now.

Speeding across the uneven terrain, Sam longed for a paved road as her head continuously bumped on Tessa's shoulders. For a moment she marveled at how much more of a jerk the Decepticon energy made her.

Well, she _could_ blame it on that, but it wasn't as if she had been an absolute angel to everyone she had ever met…

She felt someone tap her forearm. "...Hey."

Sam opened her drooping eyes wide in an effort to focus her vision. "Whut..?" she croaked.

**. . . . .**

Tessa's blond hair fell in front of her face as she leaned forward. "...Are you…? Okay…?" she asked rather lamely. Now that her bout of protection was over, Tessa remembered that this person had held a gun to her head. Not to mention this...woman...was a complete stranger.

Tessa wasn't too wary, though. She'd asked for mercy, and what she assumed was a mercenary had granted it, albeit hesitantly.

That act of mercy wasn't what drove Tessa to help her, though.

That "James Savoy" guy had actually _electrocuted_ the person Tessa thought was a member of his team. She had seen him press a button on a small contraption in his hand, had seen the wire, had _felt_ the electricity flow through her _own_ body before this woman had pushed her away, if only to spare her of the pain.

The stranger spoke, bringing Tessa out of her thoughts. "Mmmno…" she mumbled. Tessa opened her mouth to ask for her name, but her boyfriend addressed her first.

**. . . . .**

"What's happenin', baby? Who are they?" He sounded like he was trying very hard to keep his cool, but too panicked to turn back. He also sounded like he was faking an accent, but Sam couldn't place from where.

Tessa craned her neck to look back, not wanting to sit up and risk hurting the person sandwiched between herself and Lucas, who was doing the same thing she was. "It's the truck!" she cried hoarsely, chancing another glance backwards. "They want the truck!"

Tessa spoke too loudly for Samantha's liking, but she couldn't exactly lower her hearing level in her disguised form. Still, she had been forced to learn to tune out loud noise a long time ago. However, she was very out of practice.

For the first couple months of her imprisonment, when Joshua had been most eager to learn her "secrets", she'd been forced to stay awake for long periods of time by having music blasted into her ears. Halfway into the third month, the researchers had realized she didn't need to sleep.

In actuality, she very much did want to sleep, though it was not a necessity. She'd had to put up a good act (as in, convince them she wasn't going crazy) that whole time until they were convinced enough to give up and let her rest.

At the moment, though, she had a feeling that she was going to be witnessing some drama.

Sure enough, Cade interrupted. "Who are 'they'?" he began, looking back before turning to their driver. "Who are you? And who are you calling 'baby'?"

For a moment, neither Tessa or the mystery man/guy answered. For that, Sam was thankful, and she hoped Cade would drop the subject in favor of focusing on other, more important things. Like surviving.

Unfortunately, this was not to be. Because the world didn't care about what Sam would like.

"I _know_ you heard me!" Cade insisted.

"I'm her boyfriend!" "He's my boyfriend!" the two answered simultaneously, both looking regretful.

Cade's eyes bugged out of his head. " _ **What!?**_ You're not her boyfriend!"

Tessa, naturally, defended her not-her-boyfriend. "His name's _Shane_ and he _drives_ , Dad!"

Sam rolled her sunken, red eyes. ' _How convenient.'_

She held a trembling, gloved hand up to her forehead. "... _Now_ is _not_...the time…" she rasped with a shaky voice. She couldn't be loud, so she settled for emphasizing her tone.

To her annoyance and discomfort, all eyes landed on her. It was like back at the labs, where researchers would watch her all day. Unless it was one of _those_ days, in which case that asshole would watch her all day. Over all this time, she'd never had a second to herself.

And she _despised_ it.

She hardened her gaze, and even though no one could see her glare through her sunglasses, they could feel the coldness coming off of her, so they turned away.

 _Or,_ their attention was captured by the vehicles giving chase. They were bulky looking, but still kept up with them. Shane's Sonic wasn't slow by any means, but the terrain was certainly not making their escape any easier.

"What kinda cars are those!?" Lucas shouted, looking out his window. He was bouncing in his seat so much, it was a miracle he didn't bang his head somewhere. Sam believed it had happened to him recently, given his head injury. Lucas leaned back in his seat. "They're so scary!"

Sam was only vaguely aware of her surroundings, but the patch of black she spotted in the rearview mirror stood out against the gold and green hues of the tall grasses. She didn't have the breath to speak, but Cade voiced her concern.

"There's another one comin' up the back! You gotta try to lose them in this cornfield!"

Shane made a sharp turn to the left. With all this being knocked around, Sam was sure she'd get a headache. Oh wait, she already had one.

The environment turned dark green in a flash as they drove into a cornfield, reminding Sam of the "pointless billboard".

Yes, she also sucked at focus.

She hadn't expected to get hit by one of the cars. She expected them to _survive_ that crash even _less_. Instead of appreciating the fact that they all _had_ , she instead let her mind go off on a rant about how unlikely it had been, and how much it had jostled her.

Yes, she especially sucked at gratitude.

Her scarred hands trembled as she picked pieces of glass off the clothes she wore. She wrinkled her nose when she heard the sound of helicopter blades whipping through the air. That was a sound she was definitely not fond of.

After more chasing and fleeing, (Samantha could practically _hear_ the dramatic music) they found themselves on a highway that came out of nowhere. Had she been in better shape, Sam probably would have downloaded some maps, but she WASN'T. So she DIDN'T.

Weaving between cars, Sam's dizziness intensified. Tessa was sweating from sheer panic, but still made an effort to try to hold both Sam and herself steady. Lucas was...well, Lucas was taking care of all the screaming that had to be done.

Shane spoke up again, breaking Cade's focus. "Mr. Yeager, this is _not_ how I wanted us to meet, okay?" Sam's red eyes squinted as she tried to figure out what accent the boy had. It sounded distorted, but for the time being, she could blame it on her banged up microphones. "I'm Shane, and I am a completely-"

"And _I_ am not _talking_ to you!" Cade interrupted, grabbing Shane's hand and smacking it back down onto the steering wheel. "Drive the car!" Shane did so, leaving a trail of destruction behind them. Samantha, in all honesty, was surprised the cars didn't burst into flames. Back at (not) the Yeager's home, she'd seen a piece of metal burst into flames as soon as it touched down.

When it began to rain bullets, the passengers of the car ducked, including Shane, making the car swerve from side to side. Luckily, they were in a small street, so it wasn't too difficult to navigate based on the walls bordering the road. There were also _civilians_ on the street, though, so that wasn't good. Not to mention unethical.

"This may be primarily my fault, okay?" Lucas finally admitted, giving the people they were trying not to run over no more than a glance. "They said they were gonna bring a _check_! I didn't know they were gonna send a _death_ squad!"

Behind tinted lenses, Sam rolled her eyes, even though they were just about to shut close from exhaustion. The person who'd saved her, _Tessa_ , didn't deserve to be running for her life because of some dumb man's greed. For sure Lucas had believed the "rumors" - which had been leaked intentionally - and called for the reward.

"Hang on!" Shane warned, careening the car to the left. Sam, feeling weaker by the second, only heard glass shattering, people screaming, and wood snapping. And felt a small hand on her shoulder.

"We lost 'em!" Lucas patted Shane's seat roughly. "Good job, stranger from the cornfields!"

Letting her mind veer off, Sam took a second to wonder where the Autobot had gotten off to; to wonder if _it_ had left the humans that had harbored him for who knew how long or planned to retrieve them, or at the very least assist them.

' _Oh, well would ya look at that.'_

As they turned a corner, she caught a glimpse of two Transformers clambering up the side of an abandoned building. "How convenient.." she mumbled. Still, she did not let her eyes slip close again. It didn't take long to identify them, despite her impaired vision. They were Lockdown and the Autobot leader, Optimus Prime.

She resented both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I ended it in a TERRIBLE place but what's a person ta do? [I dunno, FIX it!?]
> 
> ... Nah.
> 
> Like NO ONE'S seein' this, but ya know. I want some evidence of my work somewhere in the world..heheh.
> 
> Reminder: cross-posted, so don't think I'm a thief, plz.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...What you'd expect from this scene...
> 
> KIND OF IMPORTANT MAYBE: the triple dots around the “middle” of THIS chapter aren’t like, breaks in time as they kind of were in others. They’re mostly there not because the topics of the paragraphs around them have changed completely, but mainly ‘cause the transition would seem kind of sudden and random wifout 'em..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, ha. I finished this two days after publishing the third chapter, but whatever.
> 
> We all have that one chapter in a story of ours that we hate more than the others. For me, THIS is that chapter, 'cause it's stupid and cheesy kinda and lame and boring but hey, that's just me, ya know.. I hate them all, but I'm a quarter of the way through chapter five, and I actually like it so far, sooo... I had to make that distinction...?

Okay, she _might_ have been exaggerating.

Actually no, no she wasn't.

Samantha _did_ hate them both. For different reasons, sure, but she was angry at them all the same. Lockdown, well… Lockdown was just plain despicable. Optimus, on the other hand…

She sighed internally as the car swerved left and right to avoid running into their pursuers. Her vision was still smeared, the driver's seat nothing more than a black blob to her. Luckily, her brief time in the car spent "resting" was ebbing away at her disorientation and fatigue.

Still, everything sounded slowed down, and the mixed signals from her eyes and ears were making her nauseous.

Lucas poked his injured head out of the window before sheltering himself once more. "The scary cars are back..!"

Shane steered them deeper into the cluster of empty lots and warehouses, narrowly missing a car that appeared from around the corner. Tessa turned in her seat, eyes wide as she stared out the back window. "Lose them at the factory, Shane!"

The car took a sharp left, driving under an overpass. Above them, Optimus was busy evading Lockdown's attacks. His shots only ended up damaging the roof they were on as Optimus leapt to the neighboring building, causing gravel and charred wood to rain down on the vehicles below.

"I thought you knew how to drive this thing!" Cade yelled, looking back at the approaching cars frantically. "Go!"

Shanes smashed through a fence with the "scary cars" on their tail. Lucas sounded far too calm given the situation. "I don't think we're gonna get that money. Doesn't _seem_ like it."

From her seat, Sam's sensitive hearing caught the grunts of the two Transformers brawling somewhere above them. She pondered howthey had all ended up in the same place. Sam's eyebrows furrowed. She didn't remember anyone making a call. She rolled her eyes at herself. Like she'd actually _remember_ anyone making a call.

Optimus leaned out from over the roof as Shane drove by. He seemed to have taken care of Lockdown for the moment. "Cade!"

Sam reached up to scratch the bony tip of her nose in annoyance.

She'd heard of Optimus' seemingly endless "loyalty" and whatnot in her time at KSI. Witnessing it in person was making her sick to her withered stomach. Just _how_ long had he known the humans?

The Cemetery Wind team was dangerously close, and gained a lot of ground on them as Shane turned a corner.

Sam was surprised they weren't shooting, as it seemed that was all they knew how to do.

Out of nowhere, a large shadow befell them, and in an instant, their pursuers were crushed by Optimus' body. In all the darkness and smoke, only the bright blue lights of his eyes stood out.

Tessa reached forward to gently slap her boyfriend's shoulder. "Take 'em upstairs!"

The screeching of tires was amplified by the enclosed vastness of the parking garage. The roaring of engines behind them sounded louder than ever, putting the passengers of the Chevy Sonic even more on edge.

"We're losin' 'em on the fifth floor," Shane replied, weaving between the pillars that supported each level of the building.

They reached the fifth floor soon enough, and Shane, though driving straight toward a wall, was speeding up. Tessa seemed to be in on what was going on, though. "Do that thing, Shane!" she told him breathlessly, smacking Shane's seat a little.

"You know it," was all he said in return, not giving any indication as to what he planned to do.

Cade looked between them impatiently. "What do you mean?" he asked quickly. He glanced back at his daughter. "What _thing_?"

Shane's reply offered no hint as to what that _thing_ was. "What we're about to do is gonna be… kinda scary." He promptly switched gears, and finally started to outspeed the others.

Bullets began to rain on them, and Sam felt like she had jinxed something. Internally shrugging, she slid down in her seat, wincing when bullets struck the windows. More glass shattered, sprinkling down on them like rain.

If rain hurt like a bitch.

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut, grunting. "They're shooting at us!"

"...No shit," Sam was quick to mumble, resisting the instinct to brace herself. It'd be nice to voice her opinion without being punished for it, if only she weren't so paranoid.

Shane's voice sounded amidst all the chaos. "Tessa, grab my stick! Grab my stick!"

Cade's gaze snapped to Shane's lap. "What!?"

Tessa leaned forward from her seat to grab the shift knob. Shane threw a glance at Cade. "She's got the best hands in the business." Another round of bullets hit the car. "Ready, Tess? Pull!" After a series of harsh jerks, the car swerved to the right, bringing them face to face with a ramp.

Cade's arm shot out to stop Shane once he realized they were going to drive off of it. "No! No! No!-"

Lucas' eyes blew wide. "No _f-ing_ way!"

For once, Samantha's vision and hearing matched up as time seemed to slow. But though it looked like they were slowly drifting down towards the _awaiting_ ramp, she could still feel the rush of falling in her stomach. If she hadn't known she couldn't die in that fall, and if she'd had _anything_ to drink the whole year, she probably would've pissed herself.

Her mind briefly wandered to question whether any of the people around her _had_ …

The harsh _thud_ of their landing snapped her out of it, cutting off _that_ train of thought. But her mind, being the disorganized mess that it could often be, chose to wonder about something else. Tessa had _known_ that Shane was going to pull this stunt. How in the world was Tessa even alive if she'd done this before?

Lucas cheered at their success, and Sam realized the other car had been too slow, and missed the ramp. It lay in pieces on the asphalt behind them.

"Tessa, you are _so_ grounded!" Cade roared over the commotion. Hilariously, Tessa didn't seem fazed when Sam glanced at her.

The Sonic came to a stop, surprising Samantha. Shane provided her with a reason.

"Shit! The rim's cracked!" He slammed the steering wheel in frustration. Sam's eyes widened as dread filled her chest. Her fast breathing only quickened. If they were caught now, she'd surely be placed under the strictest supervision she'd even endured. Perhaps they'd put her in complete isolation again, in a cage, or in her old dissection room, or-

The honking of a horn put a stop to her panicking. Cade whipped around, panting. "Optimus!" He was already opening his door. "C'mon! Move! Move!" He opened Tessa's door the rest of the way, helping her pull out Sam by the waist.

Samantha felt like fainting again. To just drop dead on the asphalt. Until she heard it.

Footsteps.

Lockdown.

Gasping, she managed to support herself. (All fifty pounds). The last thing she wanted to do _now_ was slow Tessa and her father down when _Lockdown_ was surely looming above them.

The group of four stood together, until Sam noticed something.

One of them was missing.

Sure enough: "My foot's stuck! Wait, Cade!"

Samantha heard it again. And felt them stop.

Tessa turned back. "Lucas!"

Lucas freed his leg, and began running toward them. "Wait! Wait!"

Sam frowned. That simply was not something they could do. Not Cade, not Tessa, not _any_ of the humans.

Grunting, she tried to push them along. She didn't care if they had to let her go, she was _tired_ of seeing that murderer in her mind. He wasn't killing out of any necessity to protect his planet, or people of importance as she once had. He killed for _sport_ , for funsies. She could consider the fact that it was his job, but she wasn't feeling particularly generous.

She didn't care much for humans, but she would feel like absolute _shit_ if she didn't at least warn those that had helped her. That would just be sick.

"Guys, you gotta…" Her head hung low as she panted. " _Run…!_ He's...He's…" She gasped a second time as she heard thumping. She clawed desperately at the air, trying to get her message across. Behind her glasses, her eyes were bugging out of her head. Her heart pounded unevenly in her chest, and she felt like she wasn't getting any air into her shriveled lungs.

Cade worriedly turned back as well, and when he looked up, saw the thing Sam was talking about. "Lucas! Lucas, above you!" He remembered it was what had been fighting Optimus, and saw it throw what resembled a grenade down at them. He mimicked Sam as he tugged both the stranger and his daughter along with him.

" _Run!_ "

Samantha knew that without the adrenaline coursing through her, she would have passed out quite a while ago. And even though she was far from heavy, she knew she'd be slowing down the people lifting her. _"Dammit."_ Tearing her arms from their grasps, she gave them a shove to get them to keep moving.

She tried her hardest to not look on the verge of passing out when they turned back to her. "... _RUN_."

The grenade had landed. And the explosion was immediate. The problem with _Lockdown's_ grenade was that it didn't just explode and then it was over. It coated the asphalt in a metal unknown to the humans, explosions erupting from every square foot that it covered.

It lasted no more than ten seconds.

There was a scream.

 _Then_ it was over.

As the smoke cleared, Samantha grew more and more nervous. Not far from her was whatever was left of Lucas. If she were to spot three more statues up ahead, she was screwed.

"HEY!"

Samantha jerked as she heard Tessa call out. Suddenly, Tessa was sprinting across the dried metal, and pulling Sam the rest of the way.

Even with sunglasses, she could see the tears in the girl's eyes.

" _Tessa_!"

They emerged from the fading smoke to see Cade hopping down from the driver's seat to bring Tessa toward him. "Tess, what were you _thinking_!?" he cried, holding Tessa's head. She broke free to help a reluctant Samantha into the truck. "That crap could've-!"

"Don't waste your time over-thinking things," Tessa snapped, easing Sam down on the floor behind the seats of the truck. Cade climbed in and shut the door, and Optimus sped away. "...It's too late for that."

* * *

Sam spent most of the ride alone, thankfully. Tessa had taken a seat between her father and boyfriend, wanting the comfort of their presence. Every now and then she'd look at Sam, but never approached. Sam, huddled in a corner, seemed to want to be on her own.

. . .

Early on, Samantha had been shivering. She was sensitive to cold for obvious reasons, but no one had anything but the clothes on their backs to offer. She almost wanted to laugh. As if her shaking wasn't already bad on its own. And to make it worse, it wasn't even cold. The sun was still out, the wind that came into the truck was a little warm, almost none of her skin was exposed, and they were in the middle of the fucking _desert_.

Still, she shivered.

When Tessa quietly pointed it out, Shane had awkwardly offered to close his window, only to realize there _were_ no windows aside from the windshield. However, the huff he'd summoned from the darkly-clad stranger had eased him.

Sam had stuffed her hands in her pockets, and curled in on herself. She'd suppressed a full body shudder when she felt something being draped across her, but her flinch had been apparent. Her teeth chattered from time to time, but there was no helping it.

 _Until_ she felt the truck warm up considerably. So warm, actually, that she could rest her cheek on the metal of the walls and floor without flinching and pulling away. She quietly peeked over her shoulder, seeking any sign of discomfort from the humans. She kept an eye on the three for a while, but they seemed unperturbed. It must have been only her spot that had changed.

If that was the case, then it must have been a conscious effort on Optimus' part. She suddenly felt guilty for harboring anger toward him, but she believed she'd had a good reason. A lot of her torture was carried out due to her inability to answer questions about the people she had supposedly known before she forgot them. And that included Optimus.

Even so, as she curled up again, she let herself smile, just a little.

Maybe having known him wasn't such a bad thing.

Despite her newfound comfort, Samantha couldn't sleep. Not yet. She was too paranoid to sleep, thinking that any second, she'd regain consciousness, and that her escape and the help and the _warmth_ were all just hallucinations she had been forced to experience by the researchers at KSI. Every time she thought about it, she'd tense up again, so she gave _that_ up for the time being.

Too soon, though, the trip was over, and they were all dropped off at an old gas station. Sam took a few steps back after clambering out, away from everyone else, and resisted the urge to pull her hood on tighter. Now that they weren't running for their lives, (or in her case, freedom), they'd all have to come to terms with what had transpired a few hours ago.

Sam had shrugged off what she realized was Cade's jacket well before arriving, hoping Tessa would take the hint and retrieve it. She had. That was one thing she had to appreciate about most humans. They could communicate in so many ways other than speaking, and it amazed her.

Optimus transformed, his enormous fist slamming down on the ground to support himself. He then leaned back on one knee, looking down at them with empathy. "My deepest sympathies, for the loss of your friend," he spoke, voice soft despite its volume. His eyes came to rest on the young woman behind the three humans, whose hands were shoved in her pockets. "Though, it appears you have a new companion…"

Cade spoke up first. "Oh, uh, this is-" He paused, and looked to Tessa for an answer. She only shrugged her shoulders.

Not wanting them to approach to ask for her name, she took several steps forward until she was near Optimus. Her gloved left hand clenched and unclenched in her pocket before she drew it out. Shakily, she held it out to the extraterrestrial before her, and cleared her abused throat.

"...S...Sa-Sam," she mumbled, before looking up through her sunglasses. "M' name's Sam," she clarified, louder this time. Before she registered how absurd it was to hold out her hand, she found herself shaking a metal index finger as best as she could. She couldn't help the huff that escaped her. "Oh man, this is the weirdest handshake ever," she whispered with a small smile as she glanced down at the finger again, narrowly missing the Autobot's change in expression.

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

"My name, is Optimus Prime," he returned in his usual introduction.

The handshake ended, with Sam's hand quickly returning to her pocket, and Optimus' somber attitude returned as the day's events caught up with him. "Stay here, all of you, 'till I am sure we weren't followed," he told them, leaving no room for argument. "We are _all_ targets now…"

In the next moment, he was driving away. Anxiety settled in her gut, and Sam sighed.

Where would she go from there? She _was_ there for a reason, after all. Aliens obviously didn't end up on foreign planets without one.

She knew for sure what her "mission" was. She was to scope out the planet for a few decades, and report her findings. Simple. But she'd already lost fifteen years. She could go out on her own, and leave this all behind; start fresh.

But she was curious. Only two of the five Autobots she'd met all that time ago remained, and she couldn't help but wonder... She sighed again as she watched the setting sun.

Research could wait.

"Sam, huh?"

She flinched. She whipped around to find Cade slowly approaching.

"H-hey, calm down," he spoke softly, raising his hands placatingly. "I… I know that what you did, back at my place, was, uh…" He shrugged. "Involuntary? At least I hope so."

Samantha was quiet for a while before giving a single nod.

Cade's shoulders sloped, and Tessa stepped up beside him. "Right," he muttered, holding out his right hand. "Cade Yeager," was all he said, and waited for Sam to take his hand. She hesitated at first, but her own right hand found his in greeting. He shook it firmly, eliciting a sharp inhale from the her. "Shit-! You alright?"

Pain shot up her arm, and Sam retracted it at lightning speed, massaging it with her left. It was an accident, of course. He didn't know how frail she was. (She was still pissed, though.) She nodded. Tessa chose to simply give her a small wave. "I-I'm Tessa…"

Sam tilted her head forward in a small bow.

Shane was last, stepping out from behind the others. "Shane Dyson," he offered, holding out his hand before pulling it back. Sam nodded twice, huffing. He gave her a look. "Don't talk much, do ya-?"

Tessa gently slapped his shoulder. " _Shane_!" she butted in, furrowing her eyebrows at him. She stopped when she heard Sam huff in amusement.

' _...Strange…,'_ she thought, trying and failing at making a joke of her last name. She usually couldn't shut up _._

Before anyone could try to coax any words from her, she began walking toward the small room they were dropped off at.

She heard Cade grumbling to Shane about something, and shook her head. She tried to open the door of the room, to find it locked. And there was no way she was breaking it down. _'Ugh, I HATE this.'_

She'd always thought she'd be able to transform after a break from the electrocutions, but she had realized that she'd need more energy to do so. How ironic. And that energy would have to come from food, or sleep.

"You okay?"

Sam blinked, an realized she'd been standing in front of the door doing nothing. Taking a step back, she tilted her head toward the door. "Locked," she whispered.

Cade nodded, understanding. If Sam couldn't take a handshake, there was no way in hell she could force open the door. He positioned himself beside the door, holding the doorknob. He gave it a test bump, to see how tough it'd be. It felt like it would easily give, so he didn't put too much pressure when he pushed it open.

The old door gave some initial resistance, but once it was dislodged from the door frame, it swung freely. He walked in, with everyone trailing behind. The room hadn't been open for a while, it seemed. The room was okay at first, but as soon as they moved a few things around, the air filled with dust. It was made even more obvious by the beams of light shining through the old windows.

Sam saw a string of _something_ snaking across the walls. She was surprised to find she didn't know what they were. She knew of common and conventional things. She still had all the knowledge she'd gained in the first few months she'd been on Earth, after all, but the "Service Station" they were in was filled with all kinds of trinkets and knickknacks and _junk_ that she hadn't downloaded information on upon arriving. (She'd mainly stuck to speech and types of life forms).

Tessa took a seat near a pile of the strings before Sam got the chance to inspect them closely. The curious teen moved on to a strange pair of shoes tied to the edge of a table. They were faded, and had a lot of bumps on the soles. No one at the labs had ever worn such shoes, not that Sam knew of. They were rather small. She figured perhaps only kids wore them.

Sam crossed the room to a shelf in a corner. It was mostly bare or caged off, so she didn't bother with it. After a while, she found herself digging through some things in the far end of the room when she noticed it had gotten really quiet. She sifted through things more slowly. Nothing else filled the silence aside from the occasional squawking of birds outside, and the lone cricket chirp.

She flinched when Tessa spoke suddenly. "Well, bright side, y' guys met."

Sam almost jumped back when a row of red dots lit up around her. _'Are those flies back!?'_ She shuddered at the vague memory.

"Where's he from?" Cade asked coolly, giving a pointed glance at Tessa.

"I told you, he's a driver from Texas."

Sam didn't stop sifting, but looked over her shoulder and realized, with bewilderment, that Cade was sitting on his seat _backwards_.

"Texas?" Cade nearly scoffed back, unaware of the scrutiny he was undergoing. "Where, Dublin, Texas? Shamrock, Texas? Then why's he sound like a leprechaun?"

Samantha went through all the geography she had stored in her "files". She didn't have many cities, but Dublin was a big one. She knew Texas was the state they were in, given what she'd heard on the way. But the only Dublin she had on record was in-

"You'd get your ass kicked in Ireland for sayin' that" Shane muttered back. His expression was neutral, but frustration pooled in his blue eyes.

' _So_ _ **that's**_ _why his voice sounded weird? Huh. Still sounds distorted…'_

"Well we're not in Ireland, Lucky Charms. We're in Texas."

Sam was fed up, and she rubbed at her forehead with her index finger. There were so many questions cluttering her already muddled brain, but she didn't want to blurt any of them out during this "clearly" important conversation.

Standing up, she kept her gaze straight on the door as she walked across the room. She could feel their eyes on her, but she ignored the feeling until she was back out in the open. The girl immediately felt like slapping herself across the face.

Why had she spent this entire time sulking, hunched over, and wary? She was _free_. She could go where she pleased, spend the afternoon _outside_ , watching the sunset. She scoffed as her mind started running wild. "As _if_."

Still.

She could squat down beside a bush and watch lizards skitter away, or pick up some small stones and fling them at perched birds, if only to see them fly. She could foolishly go poking into holes in the ground, waiting to see what would jump out at her.

As she walked around to the side of the small building, where she knew she wouldn't be seen, she inhaled as deeply as she could, feeling lighter than she ever had while flying.

There was one thing that kept bugging her, though.

Her hand reached up to just inches away from her neck, where it froze. Why was she worrying? The cable, the battery, the button… they were gone. Still, she couldn't bring herself to even brush the fabric of her gloves on it:

The _collar_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment, or kudos, or nothin' at all. I'll just continue to waste away over here on my end...
> 
> THANK YOU, y'all that've been leavin' kudos and krap, guest/no guest, idc, THANK YOU b/c I mean, ya know. Thanks...? It helps me keep goin', I guess..
> 
> ALSO, IMPORTANT: You may have caught onto the plot hole in this chapter, but worry not, it's kinda supposed to be there, and WON'T go unnoticed. yeah...
> 
> Yeah, more weird formatting things, oops, I can''t figure out how to convey what I wanna convey. WHY CAN'T I DO, WHAT I WANNA DO, THE WAY I WANNA DO IT? WHY?!?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna point out that this chapter gets a lil confusing. I’m hoping y’all get it, because it honestly ain’t that complicated..?

Samantha wanted something to distract her for the time being, and the sunset had actually done a good job. Until the door banged open, and an exasperated Tessa stormed out.

Sam was “safely” resting on a different wall of the small building, but still ducked her head a little. She wasn’t asocial by any means, (not the personality she had adopted for her visit to Earth at least), but… Well, she didn’t really have any excuses for being a coward.

And that seriously pissed her off.

She despised being at fault. She despised not being able to excuse any action of hers that she was not particularly proud of. So what to do about the tension between herself and the humans?

She exhaled sharply and held her head a tad higher. She’d tear that tension to shreds. She’d never been babied in her long life, and she couldn’t expect it now. With that in mind, she squared her shoulders and braced herself.

As expected, Tessa noted Sam’s absence, and walked around a little. The blonde turned her head left and right, raising her hand to shield her eyes from sunlight. “...Sam?”

Not being able to see Sam from her point of view, Tessa’s brow furrowed. The girl started to act a little panicky, and began to speed walk around the building. “Sam?” She picked up her pace as she rounded a corner. “Sa-?”

Tessa stopped herself too late, and found herself blocked by Sam’s outstretched palm. Sam had visibly winced when Tessa’s lower neck had come into abrupt contact with Sam’s hand, but the secluded girl made no sign of pulling her hand away. Tessa was startled, but quickly took a step back.

Sam slowly let out what little breath she had, and let her hand return to the warmth of her pocket. She shivered, but being in the sunlight had held any teeth-chattering at bay.

Tessa leaned against the wall in a similar fashion as Sam. Now, Sam didn’t have much peripheral vision with the huge shades and hoodie, but when she heard Tessa begin to mutter “I’m sorry”, she slightly turned to her.

“Don’t,” she interrupted, voice graty. She yearned for water, but she’d deal with that later. “It’s whatever. ‘Sorry’ time’s over.”

Her cracked lips quirked upward. She glanced at Tessa again, noticing her wide eyes. “Chill the fuck out, man..” Sam took in a breath to compensate for her sudden “chattiness”. “It’s not like I’m fuckin’ mute er some shit… Just…” she held the side of her head. “Just tired.” She tilted her head back cautiously, so as to not bang it on the wall. “Like all o’ them in there, ‘m sure.” Sam let some tension leave her battered body. “You included.”

Tessa looked like she wanted to freak out, but Sam’s words rang true with her. Tessa’s small shoulders sagged, and she let herself fully lean back on the wall, some old paint chipping off with her movement.

“Yeah… I guess…”

Sam smirked. “It’d also explain why you're so moody.” Sam caught Tessa’s expression of indignation and huffed. “I‘m jokin’,” she defended herself, smiling a little.

Tessa’s hunched shoulders slumped again, and a smile of her own soon graced her features. For some reason, it quickly disappeared.

“I-” Tessa cut herself off, though she looked like something was bothering her. “How-how old are you?”

Receiving no answer, she tried again. “I’m nineteen.”

Sam gave her a questioning look, but didn’t speak. Tessa answered her unasked question anyhow. Either she sensed it, even behind Sam's glasses, or she simply got the question a lot “I… haven’t gone to college yet. Decided to just, take a break, first.” She reached up to quickly brush a finger against the side of her nose, then turned to Sam. “...You…?”

Sam’s eyebrows scrunched up, and she scratched her cheek. “Lemme see,” she whispered almost inaudibly, trying to do the math. “Human age, uh…” It was a long stretch of silence as the girl tried to do the mental math, struggling to map out her timeline.

A small sigh finally escaped her moments before she spoke. “Older ‘n you..” That was… both a lie, and not.

Tessa was very obviously unsatisfied with the response she got, but let it go for the moment. “...From?”

Sam half shrugged, and regretted it, a sharp sliver of pain shooting down her arms. “Why.”

Tessa seemed put off by all the spurning of her questions, but persisted. “Doesn’t sound like you’re from ‘round here.” She repeatedly bounced her lower back against the wall.

Sam scoffed, wanting to shoot back that none of _them_ sounded like they were from around there, but refrained. There was another moment of deliberation before her hoarse voice broke the silence. “West.”

Tessa nodded slowly, and her face revealed two emotions: realization, and suspicion.

Sam found herself being stared at intently for a moment by Tessa’s now dark eyes.

“...Sam…” Tessa took a deep, shuddering breath. One that Sam wished to attribute to the growing cold, but she knew she’d be lying to herself. “Sam.”

Begrudgingly, Sam grunted her acknowledgement.

Tessa shook her head, suddenly seeming wary. “... _How_ ...How was it that… b-back _there_ … in the town… Th-the bomb… You… _survived.._?”

Sam had to avoid the question, or deny its implications. But _she,_ **_she_ ** had the urge to laugh, with a smug “Yeah, so?” leaving her mouth. For a reason that made _her_ sick to her stomach.

As always, _Sam_ won out. Sam, who just _had_ to reassure everyone that she was harmless, and had absolutely no idea how it came to be that she stood before them, alive, while Tessa’s and Cade’s lifelong friend did not.

Because if Lucas had been killed, surely _Sam_ should have been as well, no?

However, as often was the case, Sam’s needs and _her own_ needs met in the middle. Thus, instead of kindly steering the conversation elsewhere, or laughing in Tessa’s unsuspecting face, Sam let a subtle smirk flash across her face before simply ignoring the insinuation.

She shook her head, as if to rid it of her conflicting thoughts, and realized how dark it had gotten. The sun wasn’t out anymore, and streaks of blue and purple colored the sky. Some of the brighter stars had become visible, and the rising moon was thinly veiled by a few stray clouds.

“...It’s late.” Sam pushed herself off the wall with her elbows and began walking around the corner. “ _Try_ ta get some rest,” she threw over her shoulder, making fun of the fact that no one would be able to rest easily that night.

Tessa gave the back of Sam’s head an uneasy glance before following in Sam’s slow footsteps. They reached the door, but Samantha walked past it. Tessa reached out to grab Sam, but quickly pulled her arm back. She only gave Sam a look before holding the flimsy door open for her.

Still, not one to be so easily subdued, Tessa called out. “Sam!”

Sam didn’t want to talk anymore. Her throat couldn’t handle much more, even if she had wanted to. Nevertheless, her footsteps paused.

Tessa waited.

After a few moments, Sam looked over her shoulder. _Then_ Tessa spoke.

“Where are you going?”

Sam wasn’t sure what to answer. She wanted to say “nowhere”, to be left alone for a while, but she wasn’t sure whether that would only encourage more prying or not.

“Not far,” she assured the teen, her footsteps resuming. She walked into the darkness, slouching when she heard the door finally swing shut.

“Where _am_ I going?” she asked out loud, clearing her throat roughly. “Doesn’t matter. ‘S long’s I’m not cramped up with _them_. ‘Lord’ knows I’d lash out at ‘em the way I’m goin’...” She kicked at a stray bottle, and followed its path to kick it again, brows furrowed. “The way _we’re_ goin’...” she corrected, her voice a rough, broken whisper.

 

Embodying two personalities was difficult. One wanted to do one thing, and the other… _another_. One kind, sympathetic, caring, and the other, not so much.

She had realized _that_ was the reason behind her attachment to the Autobot from several nights ago. She had zero memories of him, that was a sure thing. But _Sam_ … _Sam_ , though no better off in the memories department, had felt pity.

The sympathy, the caring, the sorrow…

They had been Sam’s.

Not hers.

 

Sam stopped kicking the bottle. The frustration pent up inside her, however, caused her to give it as strong a kick as she could manage, sending it noisily skidding across the dirt and sand of the desert.

“All fer the sake of making this easier. And _look_ at what it got me...”

She cleared her throat, knowing coughing would only make the scratchiness worse. Raising the sunglasses, her garnet eyes wearily scanned the darkness. Her second hand reached up to rub frustratedly at her twitching left eyelid.

A short distance away from her was a small boulder, and she deemed it her seat. After closing the small gap between it and herself, she sat down on it, even if the face of the rock wasn’t as smooth as she would have liked.

An hour or so went by. The purple-ish sky turned black, the stars becoming fully visible. The occasional zephyr that had prickled her skin became a constant gust that had Sam constantly sweeping stray hairs from her face, reminding her of how lucky she’d been that it hadn’t fallen out. A shivering mess, she still refused to return to the service station. It wasn’t as if there was food there or anything. Sam got to wondering how the humans were coping with their lack of dinner, but _she_ replaced it with concern about herself.

What she would do for a glass of water… Or an apple, a grape, _anything_ to moisten her dry mouth and parched throat.

Not much, actually. She wasn’t ready to go up to a cactus and try and fail to hack at it in such darkness. She’d slice off a good amount of fingers before she got to any of the moist insides of the plant. She’d gone a year without water, she could handle what was likely to be only a few more hours.

But what to do in the meantime? Were she in the right mental and physical state, she’d have been itching to _do_ something to rid herself of the boredom of waiting out in the dark. She had tried to stargaze, but it had only reminded her of home, so she’d stopped.

For hours, her mind did what it did best: wander. But even _that_ got boring after a while. She could only wonder about worms for so long, and her curiosity about how it’d be like to have fur faded fast.

Instead she’d hummed a tune to herself, the sound cracking at certain points due to the strain on her vocal chords. It wasn’t really a song of any sort, just prolonged notes and sounds to keep her mind busy. She couldn’t handle stillness. Calm? Sometimes. Still? Fat chance.

She was considering attempting to doze off, despite the lightening sky, when she felt a rumble travel through the ground. Quickly, too quickly, her head snapped left and right in search of the cause. The abrupt movement made her dizzy, and she rubbed her temples to try to mitigate the effect, lifting her sunglasses in the process.

A large square shadow came into her view, and dull, yellow headlights flickered on in the distance.

“...Ah, crap…”

 

Optimus was back, and in the early hours of the morning. Sam turned her back to him, hoping in vain that he would bypass her hunched form. Suddenly a little self conscious, Sam straightened and looked straight ahead.

The rumbling intensified, but she could tell the truck was slowing down.

 

“Yup. ‘s comin’ for _me_. Great..”

 

As much as she wished to, she didn’t take off. She simply sat there on her rock, waiting. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. Again.

Suddenly, she heard the hiss of the truck behind her, and her body was suddenly shrouded by dull light. She didn’t like it. She felt like she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

Even so, she sat, and listened in begrudging admiration as Optimus transformed behind her. As much as the Transformers’ existence had been shoved in her face for the past year, she simply could _not_ get over that fact that they did, in fact, exist. She hated to admit it, but they fascinated her. In a sense, she was similar, but still, they were a whole different race of huge sentient robots and when she’d registered this fact she’d wanted to freak out.

Surprisingly, this transformation was quieter than the last, and next he was on his knee beside her, and wasn’t _she_ uncomfortable. He blocked a large amount of the cold wind, so there was that.

The silence was killing her, but she didn’t speak. She could barely make out the large shadow of Optimus’ arm reaching toward her, yet she sat still as she could.

Strangely, she found something being held out _to_ her. She leaned back at first, but she let herself slowly tilt her body forward until she could squint at the small object in the robot's huge hand.

An apple.

Samantha blinked at it behind her sunglasses, questioning eyes as red as the apple in front of them. She slowly turned to gaze up at the arctic blue eye lights far above her.

The bot those eyes belonged to shifted his hand, trying to bring Sam’s attention back to the food offering.

It worked. Samantha’s stare fell upon the fruit once again, but she didn’t reach out for it. Instead, she spoke, and hoarsely. “...An apple…?” She would’ve slapped herself for how small she’d sounded. She looked up and saw the two lights bob up and down a couple times. The inner corners of her eyebrows scrunched up as she warily retrieved the small red fruit.

Momentarily, she marveled at how the apple didn’t have any noticeable bruises despite having been handled by such large hands. Optimus must have been careful.

Another thought occurred to her then.

“How did y-?” Sam began to ask, quite a bit louder than usual as excitement got the better of her. She stopped herself and let her shoulders sag once again, her emerging smile dying. She told herself it was the _other_ personality that’d made her so giddy, but she wasn’t sure.

Dejectedly, she held the apple back out. “Can’t eat this.”

“Wh-”

“Teeth.” She pointed. “Brittle.”

A sigh, and the apple was gone.

An all too familiar emotion nagged at her: the feeling of letting someone down. She didn’t know why, but it did, and feeling guilty never failed to piss her off.

Without warning, something else was held before her. It was clear, and made a sloshing sound. As if the apple wasn’t enough. Sam was getting fidgety, extremely uncomfortable with all this… _giving_ , on Optimus’ part. But it was a bottle of _water_. Samantha wasn’t about to just _toss it aside_.

It took some effort, but Sam uncapped the dusty bottle. A single drop stuck to the cap, and dripped onto her finger with her movement. The sensation came as a shock. For the past year, the only moisture she ever felt had been on her face. That, however, was a fact she’d rather ignore.

The bottle was half empty, but Sam disregarded it as she pressed it to her cracked lips and tilted her head back. The water was gone before she knew it, yet she held it in place for a second longer. She finally pulled it away, letting out a sigh of both satisfaction and want.

She stared at the container in her hand in wonder, as if she couldn’t believe that she had actually drunk. As grateful as she was, she wasn’t one to linger on such thoughts, and she let it slip from her gloved hands. It landed with a hollow clatter, and the gravel at her feet hissed as she moved her foot to crush it.

The nice part of Samantha, the one that wasn’t truly part of her, wouldn’t let her do all this without somehow acknowledging Optimus’ favor. She looked up at him, her hood hiding some of her face, but Optimus didn’t miss her smile.

“Thanks.” She didn’t want to say it, but at least she meant it. What she _did_ want to do was question his actions, but she obeyed her common sense for once and refrained from doing so.

Optimus gave her yet another nod.

It occurred to Sam to wonder if the Autobot recognized her, or if he _could_ given better lighting and a better look at the atrocity that was her face. If only she could _eat_. She doubted she’d need much to be able to heal herself. Even that apple would have sufficed, but she wouldn’t risk breaking her teeth to eat it. She needed a liquid…

“You’re welcome,” he finally said, a hint of softness in his voice.

Sam opened her mouth to speak, no matter how much half of her mind screeched at her not to do so. It turned out, however, that Optimus had not finished his sentence.

 

“...Samantha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any typos in here? For sure. Pls let me know


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY DEAR I know this took forever and it's so damn short but yeah. This has been done for some time now, but I wanted to add stuff to the end but decided not to. I'll leave it off here.
> 
> Also, I think chapter 4 was the chapter that could have gone in a million directions. I planned a lot of scenarios out but unoriginal me decided to go with the given so I used the "original scene". I wonder if y'all would've minded me taking it in a different direction…
> 
> No but, we're finally getting into the part that I've been wanting to write. It's pretty sap or whatever but you know.
> 
> There's for sure typos in this, please point them out I wouldn't mind if y'all gave me a literal list of typos (maybe a little, sheesh XD) I don't plan these out anymore since the last time I did it I got super caught up in potential alternate storylines XD so I'll see where the next chapter takes me.

Samantha's hand twitched. Had she still been holding the bottle, it would've fallen, and probably shaken her out of her stupor. But no. She forcibly returned to the real world and let her gaze loll to the side. She didn't know what the giant beside her was expecting, but indifference surely wasn't it. She could feel his stare on her back.

"Samantha. I-"

" _What_?" she challenged, almost turning to face him.

She'd wanted to be indifferent. The absence of a reaction probably would've made Optimus leave her alone.

Well, _that_ plan was short lived.

"You _what_?!" She almost choked on a cough, but managed to swallow it down."Before this gets too cliché, lemme just say that I. Don't. Give. A _fuck_." Sam's chest rose and fell with every pause. It was becoming even harder to breathe sitting down, so she stood up on shaky legs. "I'm tired, an' hungry, can't feel my fuckin' hand…" She massaged the numb appendage, silencing herself for a moment before her voice cracked any more than it naturally did.

She met Optimus' stunned gaze with heavy eyes, and hated herself for sounding so meek. "I jus' wanna _sleep_..."

Despite the fuzziness of her sleep-deprived vision, Sam managed to catch a glimpse of something in Optimus' eyes. Even though she felt ready to collapse, she found it in herself to wonder how such robotic eyes could convey any emotion at all. The thought made her think of herself, and she pushed the idea to the back of her mind.

Her breathing was slowing down, but more out of necessity than anything. She teetered dangerously to the left, but her legs were unresponsive. Instead, a giant rusted hand smoothly held her upright, and she felt herself falling into it, nearly but not quite asleep.

As the exhaustion of her body and the restlessness of her mind fought it out, she felt warmth radiate from the hand cocooning her. It bothered her, making her want to wriggle out of there, but her body needed the warmth, and insisted she stay. It couldn't be helped, in her opinion. Her limbs were barely working anyway.

She held in a content hum, and let her droopy eyes flutter close. She didn't want to look at Optimus when she apologized.

"I-" She tensed, and it seemed he sensed it, as he slightly adjusted his hand to better accommodate her. It pissed her off, but she remembered that _perhaps_ the foreign energy within her was making her irrational. "I'm… _sorry_ …"

She might have said it through clenched teeth, but she felt some of the stiffness leave her shoulders, and her breaths weren't as shallow. "What the fuck is going on?" The words left her mouth in a small whisper. "It's never lasted _this_ long…"

It was a while before Optimus responded, and when he did, she was reminded of how well these Autobots could actually hear. Much like herself, who would have been able to literally hear the gears turning in his head were she not in her present state.

" _What,_ exactly, has never lasted this long?" From his mouth, it didn't sound that much like a question. Which wasn't to say he knew what she was talking about. He just sounded like he knew, somehow. Sam got to thinking if this quality of his voice was part of what allowed him to be such a renown leader. Against her will, she felt comforted.

"It's… You wouldn't get it," she muttered, sinking into his hand a bit more, if that was even possible. "It's not _complicated_ or anything, it's just… weird…" She was glad he could hear well, in that instant. It meant she didn't have to strain her throat at all, almost. She heard him give off a "hmm" sound, or maybe she _felt_ it, but it made her want to elaborate. Ironically, his lack of pressure for answers made her more willing to give them to him. Sam traced it back to her training.

Her eye twitched, and in the split second it was open, she spotted Optimus eyeing her neck.

"It's the collar," she admitted after a heavy sigh. "I'm sure ya saw what they did with it…" Her voice had dropped on remembering.

"They electrocuted you." He didn't waste time with niceties this time, for some reason or another. His voice had dropped as well. Enough for her to glance up at him warily. She saw the way his mouth was turned, and the slight shift to his features made him look so inexplicably angry that she squeezed her eyes shut and tucked her face away.

Again, he seemed to sense it, and she could feel him force himself to relax. Part of her was absolutely disgusted with what was going on between them, but she knew why she didn't try to get away. And she didn't want to think about it.

Sam hummed her affirmation in favor of nodding and causing herself discomfort. "Thing is, they didn't just use like, electricity or whatever," she whispered. "It was like, energy from… from Decepticon… remains," she told him, slowing down. He tensed, and she could tell what he was thinking. "You're right. Kinda. If I were infused with that stuff non-stop for long enough, I'd probably become some evil thing… or something."

It sounded a lot lamer when she said it out loud. She just didn't want to be dramatic.

"But since it only ever came in short bursts, most of the time anyway-" She added that last part bitterly. "-it means the worst it did was make me very pissy. I will admit though, that I think the repeated exposure to it kinda made me a real jerk. At least, more of a jerk than usual." She managed to huff at that.

"It's reassuring that you retained your terrible sense of humor," Optimus finally replied. He said it with such lack of hesitance that it freaked Sam out. He _knew_ Sam wouldn't take offense, and ironically it was that _knowledge_ of her that made her reclude again.

" _That's not creepy,"_ she wanted to say, but she knew it'd completely shatter whatever was going on. She'd _have_ to run away or something if she did, for the sake of avoiding the awkwardness, so she didn't. For _her_ sake.

"To get to the point," she began again, trying not to let Optimus' comment bother her, "the energy makes my eyes red. _Typical_ ," she added, lip curled in slight disgust. "But the pissiness and redness is supposed to fade a little after a minute, in time for my _next_ elec… Well, whatever, point is it should be gone by now."

"But it's not."

" _Buuut_ it's not," she kind of sing songed.

They sat in silence for a long while.

Sam tried to relax, but she could feel the other's restlessness. Like he was just itching to do something.

"If you're uncomfortable you can move, ya know." She was still quiet, but her voice was rough again. "Just fuckin' toss me on my ass if you're tired of holdin' me." She had to admit that she said it for her sake. It wasn't just _him_ that didn't let her relax, it was herself. She was done with lying still.

"Would you allow me to remove it?"

It was so sudden that Sam didn't process it until several seconds after he said it. In fact, she only knew that Optimus had made sound. She didn't even fully realize that he'd said something coherent at all.

"What?" she croaked. She was beginning to feel frustrated, and it annoyed her, which made her lip curl in slight disgust again. She didn't know why she was feeling so disgusted by everything lately, but she was. She just _knew_ her eyes were still red. She couldn't see it, obviously, but she could feel it. She wasn't a _complete_ idiot.

Or maybe she was, as Optimus had spoken once again and she hadn't realized it.

"Wait, what?"

Optimus blinked at her. "Would you be open to _me_ , _removing_ , the _collar_."

Yep. For him to speak to her like that, she truly must have been an idiot. Or so she thought. She also wondered for a split second why he was speaking so...  _formally_? She wasn't sure if that was the right word.

She was still looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "Um." Her eyes darted. "What."

Optimus, almost to her amusement, opened his mouth to repeat himself, but she shifted, and when she tried to sit up, she felt him pressing against her back to help her. She didn't know what it was, but she assumed it was a finger or something.

"Nonono," she rushed out, holding out her hand. "I heard you that time," she assured him, eyes closed. "Just the thought of it. It's just-" She cut herself off, and ran a gloved hand through her hair as well as she could without dropping the hoodie. "...What..?" She was whispering again.

She didn't want to think about it too much. It'd probably just end up being disappointing, whatever the outcome, and she'd have built it up for nothing. "I… It shouldn't be hard. What made it damn near impossible before was the magnet… That _fucking_ battery…" she hissed, shaking her head. The thought infuriated her way more than it had any right to.

It took a minute of deep breaths and mental preparation, but she eventually tilted her head to expose her neck to the bot. "...Can ya do it with one hand? Or ya wanna put me down first?"

Optimus said nothing, and brought her up to eye level. He didn't have to for Sam to see the concentration on his face. She avoided looking at him. It was difficult when he kept angling her in different directions. The girl wondered if he was taking this chance to get a better look at her, and she could only be grateful the sun hadn't risen yet.

He raised his other hand, slowly, and it closed in on her neck carefully. Sam felt her chest and throat clog up, felt her breathing stop, but Optimus was already pulling his hand away. She willed away the oncoming tears of panic, blinked to ease the sting, and let her shoulders sag.

There were so many things that made her want to cry in that moment, but she pushed them as far from her mind as she could. She couldn't think about those things. They were hard to explain and think about, so she ignored them as best she could. She'd deal with those internally until she died from the pressure.

Distracted as she was (as ever), she jolted when a flash of red caught her eye. She turned to investigate, and immediately regretted it. It turned out Optimus had been cutting through the collar with a _fucking_ laser, and it'd struck her when she'd moved.

She'd jumped back and away so much that she'd fallen out of Optimus hand. He quickly caught her, after letting out a short gasp, and he held her in his palms. Surprisingly, she sat up with her knees drawn to her chest. Her hand was hanging in midair just above the skin of her neck, caught between cradling and avoiding touching her wound. The heat of the laser had kept it from actually bleeding, but only because it'd basically burnt the skin before it could, "sealing" the wound.

There wasn't much Optimus could do, and Samantha seemed to be tolerating the pain well. She had somehow kept her sunglasses on, and the only sign of any suffering was perhaps her open mouth and trembling hand. The latter, however, was a common occurrence.

Her condition was vague enough for him to begin to ask how she felt, but she cut him off. " _Why_ didn't you _warn_ me?!"

Aaand _gone_ was shy Sam.

By the look of his face, that was _definitely_ not the reaction he'd been expecting. And when he answered, Sam realized it was for a good reason.

"I asked y-"

"You asked if you could help with the collar, not if you could shoot fucking _lasers_ at me!"

Optimus didn't seem to know how to answer without sounding like a child. Sam knew there wasn't much he'd be able to say besides a "but I _did_!" _If_ he did, in fact, warn her, which she very much doubted.

"Samantha," he began, with utmost seriousness. "I explained what I wanted to do, and asked for your permission. And _you_ gave it."

Samantha wasn't in the mood for the blame game, or the denial game, or whatever it was. She'd only heard the phrase "in passing" back at the labs, because someone was _always_ getting yelled at, and she had asked Yu about it.

No, instead she only gawked at Optimus, eyes blown wide behind dark lenses. Her reply came out as a shaky breath. "What?"

She instinctively shook her head, which caused pain to bloom from her wound again. She didn't show it. Optimus would probably ask her to tell him how it felt, and she didn't want her distracted mind to forget what she wanted to address.

"No, there's no way I told you that _that_ was okay." Her stinging, unblinking eyes stared at nothing. "I never _said_ anything..!" She resisted the urge to lift her glasses and rub her eyes. "...You know what, I changed my mind. I don't wanna talk about it right now." She pointed at him, brows furrowed. "Remind me about it later, alright?"

Optimus nodded, and began to ask about her neck again.

"It's nothin' to worry about," she answered absently, shrugging off the question. "I'm used to it, wearing this collar for a year was a real pain in the neck. Ha. And it's not like all the nerves in my neck aren't already fuckin' dead, anyways."

There was no response from Optimus, but he picked something up from the dirt he sat on and placed it on his palm, alongside Sam. She waited for Optimus to move his hand. When she saw the shine of her collar, she nearly fell off her perch all over again.

She glared at it, and kicked in its direction without actually touching it. She even went as far as to reach up for her neck again, as if she were protecting herself from having the collar put back on. It was evident she had an indescribable fear of it. "Get that thing _away_ from me, and _fucking_ des _troy_ it."

Optimus did so without question, picking up the two pieces of metal and crushing them in his hand. He made somewhat of a show of it, as if to prove to the human in his hand that it was no longer a threat.

Samantha had been holding her breath the whole time, and when the dust and small chunks of metal fell from the Optimus' hand, she allowed a full, deep breath to leave her. All was quiet for a long stretch of time, but finally she sat up a little straighter, like she'd been relieved of an invisible weight. The sky was pale blue, almost gray, a sign that the sun would rise soon. A few birds started chirping on some far off bushes, and the breeze picked up.

As it began to push some of Sam's hair around, she realized how cold she was, and sighed. "I… I need to sleep."

She was set down, and she watched Optimus transform in awe that she refused to display. She shivered, and shielded her face from the dust the wind was stirring. "I'm gonna head back," she called, louder than she'd meant, and coughed. Turning around to avoid swallowing more sand, she heard a creak. She slowly glanced over her shoulder and realized, with a nearly imperceptible smile, that Optimus had opened his door.

* * *

_She was light. Light as a feather._

_She shouldn't have been._

_But she was._

_She shouldn't have been alive._

_But she was._

_She shouldn't have been tortured._

_But she was._

_He shouldn't have been responsible for her death._

_But he was._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if this dynamic between these two is interesting at all. If it's too cliche or weird or something I could change it. Maybe…


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more interaction between our characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished this chapter. Hopefully the next chapter makes more sense -__-

* * *

 

“… Hello..?” 

Samantha let out a questioning hum as she stretched, but flinched when her limbs knocked into a few things. She lay stretched out on the reclined passenger seat, and slowly moved to sit up. She was slow from having lain there for hours, and tired because she still hadn’t been able to sleep. (This time it was mainly due to the constant pins and needles feeling in her limbs, since Optimus’ presence had eased her paranoia.)

She had heard someone approaching since they’d first pushed open the station door, but now Sam knew it was Tessa who’d come out. To do what, though, she had no clue.

The gravel and sand outside hissed as Tessa shifted. “Uh… _Sam_ ? Are you… _in_ there?”

Sam could see Tessa’s scrunched eyebrows in Optimus’ side mirrors.

Instead of answering, Sam sat up, ignoring how long it took her, and how her bones creaked with the movement. She set her arm on the part of the door that the window should have been in, and squinted at the blonde through her sunglasses.

Tessa only seemed to grow more perplexed, if possible. “...Guess you are.”

A sharp exhale through her nose was Sam’s only reaction.

Tessa toed at the loose dirt, her hands behind her back. “Um, my dad told me to tell you that he, um, wants to… talk… with you…”

The awkwardness was so intense it was almost tangible, but it was like only Tessa felt any of it. Sam only blinked slowly, like a cat fresh out of a nap. The brunette managed to yawn, though her shortness of breath made it seem like a normal exhale. “Yeah.” Sam was almost humored by Tessa’s behavior. The girl was acting like a little kid, robotically reciting her father’s message instead of passing it on.

Sam smiled a little to herself, which led to a distraught Tessa hurriedly shuffling back from where she’d come. That is, until a voice sounded through the radio.

“You should go. We have to leave before midday.”

Sam resisted the urge to question Optimus, and inched her way out of her seat and into the desert. The sun wasn’t too high, but it was already incredibly hot. Sam realized her body must have been thrown out of whack during her time with KSI. Yesterday, she’d gone from nearly fainting due to the heat, to needing it.

  
Today, the glare of the sunlight bouncing off the ground made her want to faint.

She decided that yes, her sensitivity and response to temperature were _definitely_ off-kilter.

 

As Sam walked, she found herself hesitating the closer she got to the station door, and to her horror, she took a glance at Optimus over her shoulder. She immediately tore her gaze away. It wasn’t like she was seeking _comfort_ or anything…

 

The door closed in on her way too quickly, and it stared her down as she reached out her hand. She considered knocking, but the door swung open before she could decide. Surprisingly, Shane was the one holding the door open for her.

Contemplating the status of their acquaintance, Samantha realized that for all the silence she had given Shane, he seemed more relaxed around her than anyone. Optimus was the most confident around her so far (presumably due to their preexisting relationship, whatever it had been), but of the total strangers involved, Shane hadn’t seemed to be walking on eggshells around her for too long.

“Thanks,” she heard herself saying before she could overthink it. _“Not just for the door,”_ she wanted to add, but somehow controlled her mouth.

He gave her a smile, no teeth showing from behind his dark lips. “No problem.” He flattened himself against the doorframe a little as the bundle of dark clothing that was Sam hobbled past him. “Tessa’s just over there, if you’re lookin’ for her,” he told her, pointing to an obscured corner of the main room. Sam nodded. She’d need to ask Tessa about Cade anyway.

Trying not to get distracted by knicknacks, Samantha slowly crossed the room, not being able to completely stop herself from letting her eyes linger on things for a second too long.

Tessa turned before Samantha could speak. “You actually came,” she muttered, yet she cracked a small smile after a brief pause. “Dad- _My_ dad’s in the back-” she began, also pointing, but cut herself off. “I mean, not in the _back_ , like, outside or anything, just, over-”She finalized her statement with a wave of her darkly tanned hand. “Just-here. Come on.”

And then Sam was somewhere behind the self-proclaimed inventor, Tessa announcing her presence.

“Uh, Dad? She’s-” Tessa pointed her head at Samantha once Cade had looked away from whatever he was inspecting on a dusty table, expecting him to understand her half thought.

And he did, in that way Samantha always wondered at.

“Oh, right, Sam, good, you…” Cade messed with his hair a little, and at some point conveyed to Tessa that he’d like a moment on his own. It seemed he waited until he couldn’t hear his daughter’s footsteps before going on.

“Sam,” he began after silence had settled in. “Last night, I-” He suddenly stopped.

Samantha normally would have waited grumpily, but standing there to have a serious talk was the last thing she wanted to be doing, so she told him to say something.

Cade glanced over his shoulder at the table he was now leaning against. For the first time, Sam noticed the small black drone on the table. It seemed to have been gutted by Cade since its wires were everywhere. The nest of cables seemed to be connecting the drone to an old box TV.

“Don’t worry,” he started again. “I didn’t find a tracker of any sort, so-”

“I know,” Sam interjected, wanting to just get to whatever had been Cade’s point. “Tracking systems aren’t exactly their strong suit. Bastards couldn’t find their own car in a parking lot.”

Cade looked like he wanted to smile, but held it back for some reason. “So listen, I managed to extract video footage from their drone. Saw some disturbing stuff.”

“Figures. Those things went everywhere. Saw everything.”

Cade became even more somber than he was, and didn’t look Sam in the eye. “I wanted to talk to you because… Because you’re in there, too.”

Sam’s eyes blew wide, and she tensed so much that she wasn’t even sure if her blood was still flowing.

“I stumbled upon it by accident, Sam, it’s not like I was lookin’ for that horr-”

“That was a complete invasion of privacy, unintentional or not,” Samantha bit out. She clenched her fist, wondering if she could smack the knowledge out of his head. It wasn’t entirely improbable.

“Hey, don’t hold this against me,” Cade shot back, immediately on the defensive.

“I’m not,” Sam defended, not giving him the chance to be even more suspicious of her. He may have relented the day prior, but she could tell he hadn’t been thrilled to have her sticking around. “But I wasn’t exactly in a position I’d want people to see me in.”

Cade ran a hand through his hair, his other hand on his hip. “Trust me, I understand-”

“You’re not gonna say you’re sorry, are you?” Samantha rushed out. She didn’t want consoling. Not from Cade, specifically, for specific reasons.

“I didn’t call you to force my comfort or any of that shit on you,” he responded just as quickly. Their conversation was like an intense game of tennis, responses being shot out as soon as the other was finished talking. “I wanted to know if you wanted to save the footage to potentially use it in the future, if we ever get the chance and decide to take legal action-”

“No.”

“Are you-”

“Yes. Erase whatever that drone has about me; I don’t need anyone else seeing it. You wouldn’t intentionally put me through such humiliation, would you?” In spite of the question, her voice remained completely monotone. “Not like I _have_ rights,” she muttered, not caring if anyone heard.

Cade was slow to respond, bringing an end to the sudden back and forth. He turned around and hung his head, eyeing the drone intently. The room was suspiciously quiet, and Sam realized with dread that someone could have been listening.

“Yeah, fine.” Cade’s voice nearly made her jump. “It’ll save us a load of time if I do it here and now, so, you let the others know I’m going to need a few.”

Sam internally winced. Either her language storage had been affected by the electrocutions as well, or she had simply never learned this phrase. She doubted the latter.

Sam blinked cluelessly. “...A few what?”

Cade whipped his head up, and slowly looked at her over his shoulder. “...A few _minutes_.”

Sam nodded minutely, hoping to quickly put this behind her, and wondered what time it was. “Optimus said we had to leave by noon.”

Cade plopped himself down in an old ratty chair, looking just about ready to collapse. “Then everyone better start packing. We’re not getting anywhere empty handed.”

* * *

 

“Here.”

Tessa held out a rumpled bunch of clothes in front of Samantha. Sam stared.

“What…”

Tessa regarded Sam with something that wasn’t quite pity. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s _yesterday’s_ clothes.” She turned away from Sam and bent over, rifling through the cardboard box at her feet. “Not only do we _not_ need to be dragging that day around with us, but just because we’re running from the stupid police, and nobody else cares about what happens to us, we’re not going to suddenly stop caring about ourselves.” The clatter Tessa had been making ceased, and the teen pulled out a worn pair of sneakers. “We at least have our dignity, don’t we?” she asked, offering to Sam the shoes, as well.

Samantha didn’t answer.

“We may be criminals in everyone’s eyes, but we know we’re not. We can’t let our situation drag us down, or we’re fucked,” Shane bluntly added. “Right from the start.”

“Unless… you don’t think so?” Tessa questioned, sounding slightly suspicious.

Samantha knew she couldn’t rationally expect these people to trust her, since they shouldn’t, but their distrust still bothered her. She swiftly snatched the offerings and tried to hold her head a little higher as she looked for a place to change.

* * *

 

A sneeze.

 

Static cracked from the radio.“Bless you.”

Sam hesitated. “Uh… Thanks…” She unconsciously rubbed her throat through the thin sweater she wore. Her throat was, surprisingly, feeling a little less sore that day. It was only a matter of time, she hoped, before she could finally-

“If you didn’t cover your face with a dusty scarf, you... probably wouldn’t sneeze so much.”

Samantha felt herself pouting dramatically for a moment, brows furrowed. She quickly wiped the expression off her face, and very nearly pouted again at her slip. “I like the colors, alright?” she defended, childishly mushing the scarf against her face. “And who knows, maybe I _like_ sneezing.” She suddenly sneezed again, and coughed out a tiny sheepish laugh.

She felt the truck sag then, and she could almost _hear_ the “ _yeah, right_ ”. It was frightening.

Her eyes darted left and right behind her still-present shades. “Are you somehow crossing your arms without physically crossing them?” she cried incredulously, not appreciating the itch it caused in her throat. “Because I think I’m sensing it, and honestly, it’s freaky.” The truck seemingly straightened itself out, and the seat she was on suddenly wasn’t as wilted.

“You didn’t choose the sweater,” he told her instead.

Samantha almost rolled her eyes, but Optimus’ words bothered her a little _too_ much for that. “Don’t tell me,” she muttered. “It’s not my _style_?”

All was quiet for a moment, and Sam thought she had won, but Optimus spoke before she could feel smug. “Not necessarily. It fits.”

Silence reigned for at least a minute. For all the questions swimming in her mind, all Sam’s baffled mind could manage was, “ _What?_ ”

Again, Optimus didn’t answer right away. In fact, it was only until Cade, Tessa, and Shane started filing out of the service station that Optimus spoke. “I... was told you never picked clothes your size.”

Sam realized, as the others drew near, that both she and Optimus were being pushed to talk before they got too close. “Um.” She mentally slapped herself. In her rush, she didn’t even think about how to respond. “That’s…” She huffed, feeling a tad too conflicted to laugh. “ _Why_?”

“You liked to enjoy your freedom.”

Against her will, she laughed, and tried to suppress it by pressing the fabric of her hoodie against her face even further. She shouldn’t have been feeling that comfortable with the guy, but she was. Despite his being a Transformer, there was a quality of (what humans called) humanity in Optimus that was not present in any KSI lab worker. That, Samantha was sure of.

She grew somber at the thought, and just in time. She spotted Cade just reaching the door, and she went to push it open. (It was surprisingly easy, and she suspected Optimus had “helped”.)

Why did she try, anyway? She swore she wasn’t in control of herself anymore. At times, the humans didn’t even cross her mind. At others, she actively wanted to help them.

What would Optimus think if he knew that the person he had met wasn’t real? That “Sam” was just a persona her _true_ self had adopted, had _made up_ , to blend in?

…

Why did she care?

 

“ _Stop!_ ”

Sam blinked. An impossibly rotted wall stared back at her. She abruptly pitched forward, and she landed on wood.

A table.

_Cade’s_ table?

“Oh my god-”

Something was being pried out of her scrawny hand, and her body was finally back in her control. In a rush, she pushed herself up and away from the table, whipping around to see a bug-eyed Tessa huddled near the door frame, clutching something against her chest.

“ **Sam, what the hell?!** ”

With wide eyes herself, Sam realized what was going on.

It had happened again.

She had literally lost control of her actions for the second time that day.

“Answer me!”

Tessa’s breaking voice compelled Sam into focusing. “I-” Her voice cracked as she cut herself off. What could she say? Tessa probably knew better than Sam herself. “What-What happened? What’s that?”

Tessa’s eyes were bright with panic. “You _idiot!_ What do you _mean_ , what’s this?! Did you actually manage to get a hit in before I got here?!”

Even without being able to see Sam’s face, Tessa somehow came to the conclusion that Sam was utterly perplexed.

 Some humans really _were_ remarkable.

 

“Oh god. What did those people _do_ to you?”

Sam recoiled at the comment.

 

Maybe not _that_ remarkable.

 

“They really must’ve fried your brain,” Tessa murmured, and Sam failed to recognize the concern behind Tessa’s words.

Tessa took a step forward, looking like she wanted to approach, but refrained. “I-”

She shook her head a little, and began again. “You were in- _with_ Optimus. You opened the door for my dad.” She waited, and Sam eventually nodded, remembering no more than that. “You… You got this… _I_ don’t know, you started walking all weird, all the way back here.” She looked to the side, probably trying to recall something specific. “You said you _forgot_ something?” Her green eyes were wide and questioning.

“I thought you maybe meant your old clothes, which I tossed who-knows-where, so I came to tell you.” Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “B-but I heard noise in _here_ , and-and I just come in to find you about to _drive this into your head?!_ ”

Tessa’s chest rose and fell rapidly, and in her quaking hands, Sam finally noticed the hammer. She blamed her stupidity for not seeing it earlier, _and_ for foolishly asking, “Sharp end first?”

Tessa tossed the hammer forcefully aside, grunting not so much with effort but in frustration. It was astounding that no one had barged in on them yet. “Are you serious?” she cried, reaching up as if to yank at her hair. “Were you-? Were you trying to knock yourself out?! Or-?”

Tessa froze, leaving Sam to stand there awkwardly, still swaying a little on her feet.

After several seconds, Tessa stepped back but hunched forward, backing away like Sam was an animal with rabies. “Are you…? Um, _suicidal_ or something?” she whispered.

Something told Sam that she had to end that conversation before it started.

“Look, no, no. I’m not- I’m not- that. I just- can’t explain right now. Let’s just- It’s been a long time, I don’t need your- don’t need people getting all ‘worried’ or whatever.” Sam tried not to sound bitter, but it was difficult.

Tessa opened her mouth to argue, but seemed to think better of it. “…Yeah. Okay.”

Yet, as they slowly and somewhat shakily headed for the front door, Tessa stopped. “Sam, while- while we’re here, can I, you know, can I ask you something?”

Sam had a fleeting thought, dare she think a memory, of a bright, childish voice shouting _“You already did!”_

 

The boyish voice unsettled her, and it _wasn’t familiar at all_.

That was what she told herself.

 

“Sam!”

Tessa was shaking her by the shoulders, but Sam panicked and flung her away before the fact registered.

“Fuck, man, don’t- don’t-”

Tessa caught herself, and pushed her disheveled hair out of her face. “Okay, that was kind of my fault.” She smoothed out her shirt nervously, but apparently not one to be dissuaded, spoke relatively confidently. “I just wanted to ask, um, if you and Optimus have… a _history_.”

“!!!”

Sam didn’t know how to respond. Before yesterday, she would have refuted the assumption. Before yesterday, her supposed tie to Optimus was the bane of her existence. Before yesterday, her tie to the Autobots, mainly Optimus, was a cause of her torture.

Autobots had been murdered for information on the guy. _Massacred_. Her own alien secrets were surely the only thing that had kept her alive over the past year.

It had frustrated her when random employees would mention her “old life” to her; talking about her, _to_ her, like they knew everything about her. Past friends, experiences, tastes, even making occasional comments about some “relationship” she’d had.

When Optimus brought up small details about her past self, though, she found it didn’t bother her as much for some reason. He made it sound like she had been someone that had actually been cared for and liked, and not just some captive to be dissected.

“Sam..?”

With a deep sigh, Samantha finally responded. “Yeah.”

Tessa clearly wanted an explanation, but Sam knew Tessa didn’t expect one.

Samantha gingerly pushed open the station door, spotting Cade and Shane loading bulky boxes into the back space of the truck. It was evident, even from that distance, that Cade was reprimanding the other for jostling the boxes a little too much.

Samantha’s mind brought up the memory of Tessa storming out on her father the day prior. The teen had plainly been upset, and Sam assumed it had to do with Cade. “You still mad?”

What motivated her to ask, she didn’t know.

Tessa, whose head was hovering around her shoulder, peered up at Sam self-consciously. “At what…?”

Sam gestured to where Cade and Shane were standing. “At your…”

The blonde’s expression did not change. “My… dad?”

Sam dipped her head in a “yeah, that” manner.

With furrowed brows, Tessa continued to squint at her. “When...?” A strong sigh left her, and Sam could feel it on her back. “Can’t say I’m not. I can’t even pin this on Optimus. It’s not like he forced us to let him stay…”

Sam gave the barest tilt of her head. “Stay?” she rasped out.

Tessa didn’t answer immediately, and in the silence, Sam became extremely aware of the rattling in her lungs.

“I don’t know where he came from,” Tessa began, stepping back a bit to lean on the door frame. She closed her eyes tiredly. “I was in my room when Dad and Lucas just show up with _him_ , and-” She gripped her hands in front of her, jaw tight. “We were already in deep crap. I told him so but, he never listens. The day after- yesterday- he somehow discovers the clunky old truck he bought for _parts_ is actually one of those _things_ and _obviously_ the first thing we tell him is that we have to call the cops. And _obviously_ he doesn’t listen and then it all went to-”

She cut herself off when Sam held up a sleeve-covered hand. “I know.” Sam retracted her hand, paused, then pointed at her sunglasses. Tessa didn’t seem to understand for a moment, but then hurriedly wiped at the tears that had sprung to her eyes.

They both returned their attention to the others, who looked to be just about done with loading up the boxes.

 

“Time to go.”


End file.
